Harry the Playboy - Marvel Edition
by Elven Sorcerer
Summary: After the war, Harry finds himself drifting aimlessly. So, when Fawkes appears in his living room, asking for assistance, he is more than willing to help. After all, what is life without a new war to fight, and without new girls to seduce... Lemons. Harry/Multi.
1. Chapter 1

**A New Journey**

Harry was in Potter Manor, alone, deep in thoughts, trying to decide what to do with his life. Last two years of his life had been a deadly rush of adrenaline. The resurrection of Voldemort, Death Eater plots, politics, war, all generously sprinkled with the encounters in spicy kind with his many girlfriends and other exquisite females.

But after the death of Voldemort and destruction of the last significant Death Eater cell, he found himself not knowing what to do next. His girlfriends were following their own passions, Hermione in Magical Law, Susan in Aurors, Daphne in Politics, Fleur in Banking… While spending rest of his life filled with sex and fun sounded pleasant, he knew himself enough to realize that such inaction would make him a resident of the land of crazy in short order.

Still, his future prospects were surprisingly bleak. Politics was out. Even during the war, when things were as straightforward as it could be in politics, it wasn't something he enjoyed doing, but it was too horrible to even contemplate during the peacetime. They would shower him with several key roles and lots of support, until he found himself so wrapped up in conflicts of interest that he couldn't scratch his own head without creating a widespread panic about whether he was taking over the ministry. After all, it was what happened to Dumbledore after his own victory, turning him into an ineffective grandfather figure despite all the power and respect he accumulated through blood and sweat.

In the same vein, taking up a normal job was also out of consideration. No matter which career he chose, office politics would warp around him until the strain broke the place. Not to mention, he didn't have even the slightest desire to follow a two-bit bureaucrat's orders for years while trying to soothe their small egos. Going in business, trying to merge magical and mundane technology sounded nice, but he lacked the necessary background for it. While he was very capable magically, his mundane education was stuck in middle school level. He considered going for a mundane school for a few years. He would be able to catch up with the other students relatively easily with a careful application of the Occlumency, and it would allow him some time to come to a more solid decision…

Then his thoughts were distracted by a sudden flaming explosion in the middle of the room, not tripping any of the extensive wards covered his home. He would have been on alert, ready to blast its source, if he wasn't already familiar with the source of said flames. Instead, he raised his arm, allowing the source to perch there. "Hi, Fawkes." He received a thrilling song as an answer, one his mind translated as gladness. But then Fawkes sang once more, this time a song of distress. Harry felt his mouth dry in panic. Even in the worst moments of the war, he never saw Fawkes distressed. Sad, yes, vaguely concerned, yes, but never distressed.

Harry always felt that, despite what most people thought, Phoenixes were not just some magical creature. They had a connection to something much greater on a cosmic scale. And whatever that managed to create such a distress in her, it was not something he could ignore. "Of course I will help you," Harry said. "But how?" Fawkes said nothing, just disappeared in a plume of flames.

When they reappeared, Harry finds himself in front of a building entrance, but it was already night. America, Harry assumed, considering all the signs were in English but there were several hours time difference. 'Bayville High School' the sign read. He cast a notice-me-not charm in reflex, then turned towards Fawkes curiously, and she sent several more images into his mind. A huge Phoenix in space somehow linked to this school, and Harry himself in school uniforms. It was clear that she was asking him to investigate what was going on there. "Of course, Fawkes, it's not like I can deny you a favor after all you did for me," he said, rubbing where the basilisk had bitten his arm when he was in his second year. Fawkes gurgled a song of happiness and disappeared, and left him alone in the courtyard. "Cheeky bird," he murmured as he walked away, composing the letter he was going to send to Goblins. Considering their efficiency, his transfer to Bayville High should be processed in the morning, along with all supporting documents and a place to live.

* * *

Harry walked through the ordinary looking corridors of the school, having just finished his meeting with Principal Kelly, finalizing his transfer to Senior Year. Joining as a senior was an aggressive choice, but he hoped to handle it enough with the liberal application of Occlumancy, especially since he much better at the math than required in High School level after all the advanced arithmancy and warding studies, leaving him to free to focus on softer topics.

Then, he turned his attention towards the main issue once more. What could distress an eternal and immortal creature in an ordinary school? Of course, his Potter luck struck true once more, and a second later, he received his first clue. He saw a girl struggling to open her locker, only to have no success. She stopped struggling and looked around, then turned her attention back to the locker. Harry felt a discharge of energy before anything happening, then a small explosion forced the locker open. The curious thing was that the energy almost definitely wasn't magic, at least not in a form Harry ever felt before.

Harry watched, intrigued, as a boy dashed towards her. "Tabitha, what are you doing, you know we are not supposed to use our powers for two weeks," he said.

"Come on, Kurt," the girl answered. "What professor don't know doesn't hurt him. And two weeks without powers, it's a cruel and inhumane punishment." She started walking away without waiting for an answer, and he followed her, still trying to argue his point.

Harry stood behind, his eyebrow raised. Finding people with 'powers' that is not magic, or at least magicians that are using a completely different form than Harry was used to, students in an otherwise normal high school. Impressive efficiency, he smiled, considering he was there for less than half an hour yet. He watched them until they disappeared, then he walked towards his own class.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around before," a girl piped in an enthusiastic voice. She was a purple haired girl with a cheerful expression on her face, but Harry instantly felt something was not normal with her. There was a screen of energy covering her whole body, but it was low key and barely detectable.

Harry forced himself not to react negatively as he pushed his hand towards her. "I'm a new transfer, from England," he answered. "Harry Evans, at your service."

"Oh, really," she said. "I'm also from England. My name is Risty, Risty Wilde. So, what brought you across the pond?"

Harry give a brief rundown of his cover story, then the discussion tapered towards different topics. But her mannerism and the way she asked her questions, subtly interrogating Harry to catch any consistency there might be without being obtrusive, was enough to convince Harry that he was not facing a normal student even when her powers were not included. He was facing a real intelligence professional. Thankfully, occlumency was quite helpful in controlling bodily responses and micro expressions, so even as the discussion continued, Harry was hopeful that he was able to get away without giving too much up. Still, he attached a small tracking charm on her skin and sole of her shoe. Harry was tempted to scan her surface thoughts, but he didn't know whether she had the capability to detect his intrusion, so he refrained.

Rest of the lessons were passed without any extraordinary event, though Harry was able to identify several other teenagers with powers, though they weren't exactly careful to conceal their actions, lacking the experience and professionalism 'Risty' displayed during their talk. From their interactions, it was easy to deduct those teenagers belonged to two different groups, X-men, and Brotherhood, if the names he caught was accurate.

Still, he hadn't seen anything with a potential to cause distress in Fawkes. He could understand if she was curious, or vaguely alarmed, but distressed, there must be something more going on than just a few teenagers with power, though, their presence was probably linked to whatever was going on. Harry wasn't willing to bet that their location was just a coincidence.

During the last lesson of the day, Harry felt his tracking charms getting away. A distraction charm was enough to sneak out of the class without anyone noticing. He walked to a corner and wrapped his invisibility cloak around him, and started flying, following the Risty as she drove away in a car, only to stop in front of an Asylum. Much to Harry's surprise, the woman who left the car wasn't Risty. Instead, it was a middle aged doctor wearing medical clothes. 'Or she doesn't look like Risty for now,' Harry amended his thoughts after checking, only to see his tracking charm was still in its place. He focused and felt the same energy covering her body. Some kind of shape shifter then, Harry deduced. He followed her inside, casting a silencing and an odor suppression spells on himself, tricks he learned when he was sneaking into werewolf lairs during the war.

He followed as 'Risty' arrived at a cell that contained a young woman. Not a normal one either, if the high powered containment field, strong enough to give many wizards problems. If the containment field wasn't enough, she was put in a straight-jacket, and a thick rope was tying her to the ground. Seeing the sadness in her face, Harry felt his anger flaring. He didn't know whether she was a criminal or not, but even she was a criminal, putting someone in a solitary cell with the restricted movement was torture, plain and simple.

He didn't pay much attention to 'Risty', who just scratched a few note in the notebook she was carrying, then left the Asylum. Harry followed her until she mounted her car, but instead of following her as she drove away, he sneaked into records department. What he found there was enough to flare his anger uncontrollably. Apparently, the girl was named Wanda Maximoff, and her power has been identified as some kind of mutation, but assessing the effects, it seemed more like large scale accidental magic with a leaning towards manipulating probability. More importantly, she wasn't even a criminal, she just caused several accidents with very limited damage. Accidents that should have been easily preventable with the presence of a third rate wizard, or an otherwise powered individual. Instead, they chose to put her in isolation, filling her with medication to the gills, and prodded her with repeated experiments focusing on how her power worked instead of how to control it.

Harry started to walk towards the cell once more, his mind already made up. She wouldn't spend one more day in that abominable cell. He blinked inside her cell, still concealed magically, and cast a spell to fry all observation equipment, followed by a colloportus charm to the door, making sure no one would be able to open the door and distract them. "Hello, Wanda," he said.

She turned towards him, her eyes widened in shock in response to his sudden appearance. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice thick with panic.

Harry raised his hands in a non-threatening manner, trying to display that he had no bad intention. "Sorry for the intrusion, but I came here to save you, only if you want of course."

"Who are you," she repeated, a measuring expression sneaking to her face. "Are you a mutant too?"

"No," he said, and her face fell instantly. "But still, I'm not someone you could exactly call normal." With a wave of his hands, her straightjacket and binders melted away. At the same time, a bouquet of roses appeared on his hand. He presented the flowers to her. "Harry Potter, wizard extraordinaire, at your service," he said, a large, showy smile on his face. He felt acting in a showy, but a harmless manner would help her to relax.

"Really, a magician," she said doubtfully, but a small smile found her face, and some of her panic drained away. "How droll. Do you do birthday parties?"

"Well, kind of," Harry answered, remembering a birthday party ambushed by Death Eaters. "But only if they include an exciting combat and a considerable amount of collateral damage, with a dash of reality rewriting."

"Like this," she said, her face suddenly serious as she raised her hand, and sent some kind of energy bolt towards the only chair in the room, an ugly metal piece. A cloak of energy covered the chair for a moment, then it suddenly collapsed, covered in rust. She turned back to him, a carefully blank expression on her face. An expression Harry found very familiar, because he had the same expression while he grew up. Expression of someone who was convinced everyone in her life would desert her as soon as they learned about what she could do.

Harry tried to keep pity out of his expression, knowing it wouldn't be welcome in this situation. "Not bad for a beginner," he said, keeping his tone light. "But don't tell me it's limited to abusing some poor chairs."

"Of course not," she said, a smile coming back to her face, however faint.

"So, do you want to come with me?"

Her expression turned serious once more. "Why," she said. "Why exactly are you trying to help me? Even my own father prefers to keep me locked instead of trying to help me."

"Believe or not, I have been in the same situation, though it was a small cupboard under the stairs instead of an Asylum. Today, I have stumbled upon you by accident, and offering you help with no catch. I know that you are struggling to control your power, and I'm offering you training, free of cost, and you can leave anytime."

"Really?" she asked suspiciously. "How can I know you are telling the truth?"

"Unfortunately, you can't. You don't know me, you don't know my capabilities, and I don't have any evidence that you will take at face value. You are going to decide whether you are going to take a leap of faith, or continue to stay here."

She gazed at him, carefully examining his face, no word leaving her mouth. A full minute passed in silence, and Harry started to get worried that maybe he overwhelmed her, causing her to reject his offer. Then, she presented her hand to him, Harry grabbed it, and they disappeared with a loud crack, leaving ruins of a chair as the only reminder of their presence.

* * *

Wanda stumbled as soon as they appeared in the room. "What was that," she asked, gasping in shock. "It felt like my whole body squeezed through a tube."

"Sorry, magical transport methods are not very pleasant, and having your first experience as an intercontinental apparition would take the cake."

"Really, intercontinental?" she asked, looking impressed. "Where are we exactly?"

"We are back in Britain, in my mansion," Harry answered. "There is a chance people will start looking for you, and my place in Bayville isn't exactly secure. It's being protected by just a few rudimentary wards." Though considering the developments, Harry was thinking of commissioning Goblins to purchase a manor on the outskirts of the town and set-up with a decent set of wards. It was better to safe than sorry.

"Very impressive powers," she murmured, envious. "I wish my mutation was something like that."

"So, what exactly is your power? And what are the mutations exactly?"

Wanda looked at him with a surprise on her face. "What do you mean? We are mutants, and our power comes from the X-Gene we are carrying."

"Interesting," Harry said. "Truthfully, I don't know whether I, or any other wizards or witches, have that mutation you refer, but in the end, it doesn't change much. How to control it more of a priority than its source, at least in the short term."

"Tell that to my father. He believes that X-gene makes us a separate species, Homo Superior, destined to rule the planet." Her face grimaced, followed by a dark flash. "You can imagine just how well he reacted when his own daughter proved unable to control her powers." She waved her hands in anger, and another bolt left her hands and hit his bookshelf, which subsequently collapsed. Her face turned ashen, her hands trembling. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. It wasn't intentional. Please don't send me away."

Harry waved his hand, and the bookshelf immediately repaired itself like it wasn't damaged in the first place, however, it was significantly difficult than he assumed it would be. Harry was intrigued even more, but he turned his attention back to her problems instead of the impact of her powers. An imminent breakdown from a pseudo-witch with limited control wasn't the best time to go into the tinker mode. "Calm down," he said, keeping his tone serene to the best of his ability. "I know it wasn't intentional, and even if it was, it isn't a good enough reason to kick you out."

"Thanks," she murmured and took a hesitant step towards him, only to stop midway. It wasn't hard to understand what she was thinking, only for her courage to falter midway. Harry opened his arms in a hug. Another smile, much brighter than any other she had during their earlier discussion, found her lips, and she moved into his arms. Harry let her arms envelop him, then gently wrapped his own arms around her. He could feel his shoulder getting wetter. "There there, it all passed," he murmured, patting her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking more surprised than Harry in regards to her own outburst. "It's not me normally, but this is just too surreal."

"Believe me, I understand wholeheartedly. I have had a very similar experience when I was fourteen. It takes a bit of time to adapt. Do you want to go to your room and rest."

"My room?" she asked.

"Sure," Harry said. "Since I saved you, I'm also responsible for your upkeep, at least until you decide to seek for alternative arrangements. You can think yourself as my apprentice."

Wanda said nothing, but the largest smile of the night appeared on her face. Harry could see a familiar hesitant expression on her face, one he recognized pretty well from his experiences. He could have prevented it, but not without hurting her feelings badly. And it wasn't like it was an unpleasant experience for him. Wanda was a very pretty girl despite the total lack of makeup and horrid state of her clothes. He didn't react as she wrapped her around him once more, pulling him closer for a timid, closed mouth kiss. Harry answered his kiss, but not pushed aggressively like he normally would, reasoning she already had enough shock this evening. A few seconds later, she pulled back, a deep blush covering her face.

"Are you feeling better now," Harry asked. She just nodded, hesitant to say anything, a thick blush covering her face. Harry took a note to explain to her that he was in a polyamorous relationship with multiple girls before she met one of them accidentally. Harry didn't want to test how bad she would react with all of her anger and abandonment issues. "I need to mention something that might make you a little annoyed, or plain angry," he said.

"What it is?" she asked, a bit hesitant.

"I am currently in a relationship with several girls," he said, not wanting to lengthen the suspense.

Her mouth opened in shock, anger and disappointment coloring her eyes. "You two timing bastard-" she started, her hand rising.

Harry was pretty sure that he was about to receive one of her energy bolts, so he raised his hands in surrender mode and interrupted her. "Not like that, we are in an open relationship where everyone is aware of each other, and they have their own lives and careers. It's more like a polyamorous relationship, but with only one male."

Her anger melted down, leaving its place to shock and sadness. Harry could understand her perspective, she was hopeless in that hole, and then he rescued her, accepted her issues, offered her a solution. Considering he was reasonably handsome and at her age, her instant infatuation with him wasn't a surprise, and now she was thinking she had no chance with him. Not true of course, but also not an issue he wanted to push until she managed to center herself. "Okay," she murmured.

Harry decided to change the topic to distract her. "How about you tell me about what you know about this mutant issue…"

* * *

The alarm rang, echoing between the walls. Harry woke up reluctantly, still tired. His talk with Wanda lasted for hours, followed by a small brief in occlumency and introduction to Kreacher for her needs. Then, Harry stopped in Gringotts, setting up the agreement for the new mansion and wards, paying a lot extra for express service. Total, it was almost 5 a.m. when he was finally able to sleep, only to wake up back in 7:30. A quick shower and a breakfast prepared by Dobby later, he apparated to the backyard of the school and walked towards the main building.

"Hi, dork, who are you?" he heard someone shouting from behind.

Even before he turned his back, he knew he was being targeted for some kind of hazing. He turned, only to see several teenagers, most likely American Football players based on their physique. "Hi guys, I'm Harry, the new transfer," he said, deliberately acting timid. He knew that what he said was like dropping blood to a shark infested water. Sharks that no idea they got the attention of a much more dangerous predator. Harry had no intention of pussyfooting around several assholes.

"I'm Duncan," the guy in the front spoke, the rest just flexed their muscles. "I have seen you talking with Risty yesterday, and she is going to be Jason's girlfriend, so keep away from her, would you?"

Harry couldn't help but snort. "Really," he said, discreetly casting a notice-me-not charm around the area. It had been a while since he had been in a purely physical altercation, and he wanted to keep the distractions away from him while he enjoyed. "Real intimidating guys. I'm about to pee myself."

"Are you asking for a beating?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"Why not? It's not like you limp dicks can deliver it." His statement managed to trigger Duncan's anger, and he swung his fist in a devastating right hook, his full weight behind. Devastating, only if it had managed to connect, of course. Harry ducked, and the fist went wide over his head, unbalancing Duncan, something Harry punished with a fist just below his eye, hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. The others dashed towards him after a momentary confusion, and Harry was about to punish them when he felt someone walking through his spell, not even slowing down, not showing any sign of being affected by it. To make things even worse, he could sense a presence pressing to his mind, trying to read his surface thoughts. A vain attempt considering Harry's mind was protected by several occlumency barriers, but still annoying.

Whoever was the mind-reader, Harry didn't want to display his abilities, so when the next jock swung towards him, he let the first connect on the shoulder, and then fell down. The jocks, including Duncan, gathered above his head when a shrill cry distracted them. "Duncan! What are you doing!"

Duncan's panicked expression as he turned quickly was so funny that he had to struggle for not to laugh. "Honey, it's not what it looks-" he started only to cut by the fiery redhead mid sentence.

"Not what it looks like," Jean shouted. "So you are not trying to beat the new transfer student with five people." Duncan tried to convince her that it was all of a misunderstanding, but considering she was the source of earlier mental intrusion, none of the lies he tried to come up with had worked, and a minute later, he admitted defeat and left the opening, his buddies following him like lost puppies. Jean turned towards him. "I can't believe he tried to do something like that, I'm so sorry."

Harry stood up. "No worries," he said. "Bullies are the same everywhere, trying to pick who they see as weak or defenseless. I'm Harry Evans, by the way."

He could see the struggle on her face as she tried to come up with a way to object referring her boyfriend as a bully, but she quickly gave that up as a lost cause. "Some people are just like that," she murmured.

"So, how about I take you out to dinner in appreciation of saving my ass here," he said, cranking his rugged smile to full power. He knew, from his extensive experiences, most women find that irresistible.

"Sure," Jean stammered, expression of shock booming on her face a second later, just realizing that she agreed to a date with someone she just met.

"Perfect. See you at the classes," Harry said and started walking towards the classes, only to stop after a couple of steps. "Are you coming?" Jean took a few quick steps to catch up, then started walking next to him, asking him about why he transferred to here. Harry gave the same cover story he established with goblins, to manage a small business he inherited from his mother's side of the family. Soon, they were inside the school, where they needed to go different classes. "See you when the classes end," Harry said.

"Yeah, see you," Jean said, still a bit surprised, and walked away. Harry was tempted to leave a small kiss on the cheek, but didn't want to give an excuse to cancel their date by immediately pushing it out of friend territory. Though Harry also noted an interesting thing, he could feel two deadly glare targeting him. Duncan's, he could understand, Harry was trying to seduce his girlfriend after giving the guy a black eye, but the other guy with the ruby glasses was a bit unexpected. Despite not being able to see his eyes, Harry felt that the guy wanted nothing more than eviscerate him. Though considering the thick aura of power around his eyes, Harry wasn't ready to write off the possibility that the guy was actually capable of doing so.

"Tough day?" Risty asked as soon as he entered the room.

"You could say that," Harry answered. "Several jocks tried to give me a welcome party, thankfully one of their girlfriends was near enough to bust it before someone got hurt."

"It explains Duncan's eye," she said with a cheerful tone, but teacher arrived before Harry could reply.

Harry was satisfied with the morning's results. Not only he managed to secure a one-to-one meeting with one of the powered individuals, she was also quite beautiful. Harry wondered just how susceptible she was to Potter effect…

* * *

 **Author Notes: Here is yet another story, detailing Harry's adventures in Marvel Universe. Hope everyone enjoys, and don't forget to leave reviews. Every comment is precious.**


	2. Chapter 2

The school day passed without any other notable incident, though mostly because Harry was careful not to interact with any other powered individual. It would be too suspicious if he suddenly interjected himself into their group. After the lessons ended, he walked to the school gates, waiting for Jean to arrive, only to find Duncan already waiting for him. "You are playing with the fire, pipsqueak," Duncan said between his clenched teeth, puffing up his muscles, trying to look threatening. It was threatening in the same way a Chiwawa dog was threatening to a speeding car, a noise source barely worth registering.

Harry didn't even deign to answer, he just laughed. He was aware that Duncan couldn't start a fight in a public place, not without being kicked out of the team, not that it would be threatening if he did. It didn't take long for Duncan to realize his posturing wasn't getting any results, and stomped away, leaving him alone in his wait. Jean appeared in the school gates a few minutes later, though her hesitancy about the date was clear on her face. "Hi, Jean, are you ready," Harry said, walking towards her.

"Sure. You?" she said, reservation still clear in her eyes, no doubt trying to figure out Harry's intentions. Still, Harry was impressed to see she hadn't made any attempt to focus on his mind to pass his protection, to assuage her curiosity. But before they could say anything further, they were interrupted by another voice.

"Hey, Jean, do you want to come back to the mansion with me," Scott said, pointedly looking at Harry, clearly trying to make a point that he was living in the same house with her. Harry had to hold back another snort for his childish way of staking a claim. Scott wasn't as bad as Duncan, but it was hardly a complimentary comparison. Not to mention Scott was so deep inside the friend zone, it went straight past the tragic and became funny instead.

"No, Scott. I have told you before that I have plans," Jean said, trying to look calm and understanding, but Harry could easily see annoyance bubbling underneath. It was clear that it wasn't the first time Scott tried to impose his will to her choices.

"But, Jean-" he started, only to be cut once again.

"I said I have plans," she repeated, stressing her words more this time.

"I see," Scott mumbled. "See you back at the mansion." With that, he walked away to his car.

"Shall we?" Harry said. Jean nodded, and they went to a nearby coffee shop. They stayed there for almost an hour, mostly talking casually about school. Harry talked about some of his more lighthearted adventures, properly sanitized. He was careful not to come out to heavily, though interesting observations started to pile up. First, there was the constant pressure over his mind, trying to catch his stray thoughts, but never trying to go deeper. If he hadn't already seen Wanda experiencing the same problem, Harry might have assumed that she was keeping it at a surface level because her power was limited, but she kept the field over two hours without showing slightest bit of strain, enough to prove it wasn't the lack of power that kept her from going deeper. Still, she neither tried to push deeper, nor she showed any sign of annoyance when her probes to his mind came out empty. That was enough to convince Harry about her. He decided to take the next step.

Harry sent a magical message to Dobby, asking for a picnic basket, then turned to Jean. "Do you want to eat something?"

Jean looked conflicted, the struggle easily read from her face. On the one hand, she was clearly enjoying their date and wanted it to continue, on the other hand, she still had a boyfriend. Though after today's fight, Harry assumed that was mostly a technicality. "There is not a good place to eat around here," she said, opting for a weak excuse.

"Don't worry about it, I have a plan," Harry answered and stood up, presenting his arm to her. She blushed, but still put her hand on his forearm. They walked towards the outskirts of the town until they reached to a small outcrop, surrounded by trees, perfect for a late picnic. "Surprise," Harry said, raising his hand which was holding a picnic basket he discreetly summoned a minute ago.

Jean looked at him with surprise. "Where and when did you get a picnic basket? I haven't seen you carry one."

Harry chuckled. "Trade secret," he said, then he pulled the blanket from the basket, spreading it on the ground. Then a couple of sandwiches came out of the basket, along with a bottle of red wine.

"Harry, I can't drink alcohol, it's illegal," Jean said.

"Really?" Harry said. "It's silly. You are eighteen, you can buy and drive a car, you can marry, you can enlist in the army, but drinking is not an age appropriate activity? Bloody colonials," he said with a huge smile.

Jean looked at him with a sheepish expression. "Okay, I might have a glass," she amended. "A small one!"

"Sure," Harry said and went on with the preparations. Jean sat down, and Harry sat down next to her, quite a bit closer than it was appropriate for two unattached young people, but no protest left Jean's lips. Their discussion started again, this time Harry gently manipulating the flow of discussion to Jean.

"It's becoming overwhelming, you know," Jean said, her tongue loosening quite a bit after her second glass. "Expectations over me are piling up, schoolwork, cheerleading, Duncan's antics, team training in the mansion, mental training-" she went on, only to cut abruptly as she realized she said something she shouldn't. "I mean, additional physiology training with the professor. Sometimes, I feel like everyone is trying to make me something I'm not."

"Why are you letting them do this to you?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?"

"The people you counted just now, none of them has power over if you don't let them. You cannot let other people's expectations dictate your life. You need to decide what you want to achieve, and which path you want to take for it. If they agree with it, nice for them. If not, cut them off."

"It's not that simple," Jean said loudly, almost shouting in a rare display of anger, waving her hand. Harry's comment clearly touched an open wound. However, she also managed to knock the wine bottle, only to reflexively reach with her power and arrest the flight of the bottle in mid-flight, including the wine droplets that flew out of the bottle.

"Impressive," Harry murmured. No matter the source, reflexively arresting the flight of a liquid was an impressive display of finesse.

Realizing what she just displayed, a panicked expression went through Jean's face. "I can explain!" she cried, then her voice just got smaller, realizing any argument she would make would sound ridiculous. "It was a trick of the light?"

"Really," Harry said, his smile getting wider. "So you didn't use some kind of telekinesis to arrest the flight of the liquid."

Jean looked at him, her mouth open in shock, then it dawned on her, her expression instantly turning into a guarded one. "You knew I'm a mutant," she said accusingly.

"Well, honey. If you want to keep your powers secret, you shouldn't probe every mind you came across," Harry said, a carefree smile still on his lips.

Jean looked at him in shock. "You can feel that?" she said, her mood falling radically. "Damn it. I thought I finally managed to keep out of someone's mind."

"Unfortunately, no," Harry said. "It was my mental defenses that kept your probe out. I take my mental privacy seriously," he said, his tone suddenly serious. "Believe me, if I hadn't realized it was unintentional, we would be having a very different discussion." Then he changed the topic. "Also, is the fact that some of the students have powers supposed to be a secret? Because you guys are doing kind of a shitty job hiding that. It's my second day, and I can count half a dozen I personally observed. Lance, Fred, Tabitha, Kurt, Amara, and you."

"But-" she started only to cut by Harry.

"If you guys want to keep it secret, you need to stop having fights in the school, nor you should be having discussions about your power in school without bothering to keep your voice low. I'm frankly surprised that you guys are not yet in a tabloid." A guilty expression flashed over her face, indicating they were actively keeping it hidden, probably through a less than ethical method. "Never mind," he said, changing the topic. "Wanna see something cool?"

She looked at him, hesitation clear in her eyes, but nodded after a moment's indecision. Harry cast the flying spell, and rose a few feet off the ground. "Cool, right?"

"It's amazing. I wish I can fly like that."

"Wish, and I deliver," Harry said with a smile, and cast a similar levitation spell on her.

She let a panicked cry out as she slowly rose off the ground, but it drained quickly, leaving its place to joy. "It's amazing," she said, followed by a happy laugh. "How can I move like you do?"

"I'm doing through my magic. But, why don't you try to direct yourself with your telekinesis, it would be much better if you can figure out a way to do it with your own power."

"It won't work, I cannot change my own direction with my power. It's impossible."

"Come on, we are currently flying with magic. You shouldn't throw the word impossible around so carelessly. I'm sure you can do it if you put your mind into it."

A determined expression flared on her face, and she started experimenting. A few seconds later, she started to move, and two minutes later, she was able to direct herself consciously, if a bit shaky. Harry moved next to her and tapped her shoulder. "You are it," he said and floated away.

Jean looked at him with shock but dashed towards him nevertheless. They started an aerial game of tag, Harry intentionally keeping slow enough to get caught occasionally. Joy overtook the shock and laughs spread around the outcropping. Then, Harry deliberately flew close to the ground. Predictably, she pounced on him, and Harry found himself pinned on the ground, the attractive redhead straddling his waist. "Surrender," she asked between laughs.

Harry opened his mouth, and her grip weakened a little. It was all he needed to switch the tables, and suddenly he was pinning her in a mirror of their earlier position. "I surrender," she gasped between laughs.

"Good," Harry said, then he leaned down and captured her lips. Harry could feel her freezing in shock for a moment, but Harry continued, and soon, her lips were moving tentatively, copying his movements. Soon, her lips lost their stiffness as her hesitation melted away under Harry's attention. She cracked her lips, and Harry slid his tongue between them.

Harry could feel her power rising in response to her excitement, something to record peripherally if it wasn't for the feeling he got from the power. It felt different, ethereal, fiery, but very familiar. It didn't take him long to identify the familiarity. Fawkes. Somehow, her power managed to replicate the traits of the most mysterious species on the Earth. More importantly, while it was more muted than Fawkes' power, somehow it still felt much greater. Harry was confused by it, but thankfully his body went to autopilot, and invaded Jean's mouth as he considered the implications of his discovery.

Then, Harry pulled back. He could feel her phoenix-like power rising further as she got more and more aroused, and he didn't want to risk a breakdown, at least not until she trusted him enough to follow his directions in an emergency. He peered into her eyes, her green eyes wide in arousal. Harry was tempted to lean down and capture her lips once again. Just one more kiss, and they would stay connected until the dawn.

"Wow," she murmured. "It was…"

"Amazing? Definitely," Harry said, and couldn't resist leaning for one last peck, one that lengthened quite a bit when Jean's hands grabbed and prevented him from pulling back. Both of them was panting heavily when they separated once more, this time due to a hard need to breathe. "We should stop," Harry said. "Because I'm not sure whether I can stop myself next time."

A delicious expression of indecision appeared on Jean's face as she considered the question. For a moment, it looked like she was going to insist for not stopping despite Harry's warning, but a rueful expression passed over her face. "We should stop, it's almost curfew. Even if I can find a cab now, I'll be late."

Harry smiled. "On that, I can be some help."

"Harry, no. You drank as much as I did. You cannot drive."

"Who said anything about driving," Harry answered as he pulled her to her feet. "Close your eyes and imagine somewhere walking distance to the entrance." She looked a bit confused, but did it anyway. Harry used a variant of apparition, where it takes the directions partly from the passenger, and a second later, they were standing between trees, a large building visible from where they stood.

"What, how?" she mumbled in shock.

"I'm a man of many talents, Miss Grey," Harry said, giving a mock bow. "I wish you good night," he said, stole one last brief kiss, and blinked away, his mind turning toward the very critical question, how an eighteen-years old girl could possess the same energy with a legendary immortal creature.

* * *

The next day, Harry was very tired as he walked towards the school building. After his date with Jean, he went back to Potter Manor to train Wanda, followed by a library to get some clues about Jean's situation. He was barely able to get two hours of sleep, but thankfully, his magic was enough to compensate the difference. He saw Jean on the door, and waved his hand towards her, only to get a nasty surprise. He expected either an enthusiastic greeting or a silent blush, so her passing him with barely a glance was not a welcome realization.

Harry would write it off as a delayed remorse for cheating her boyfriend, if it wasn't for the one factor. Her secondary phoenix-esque power, the one he felt clearly during the last night, was wrapped so tight that it didn't exist for any practical purposes. Harry would put a limb on the risk and say that wasn't normal. An opinion that got strengthened as he observed her during the day, her actions more akin to a robot than a living, passionate being. No emotion, just calm logic. Not for once, Harry saw her smile or scowl in anger, even when Duncan started to pester her with ridiculous comments. It didn't take a genius to realize that something was amiss. Especially when he noticed Scott deliberately staying near her, trying to intimidate him by his presence. Unfortunately for him, people much scarier than him failed in that particular task.

Harry knew that observing the situation from afar would be the safest path to take, but he had never been particularly good when patience was needed. Instead, he donned his invisibility cloak and sneaked in the last class Jean was taking, physics. He waited for class to finish, people packing their bags before they left. A weak magical push to the books Jean was carrying proved enough distraction, and she stayed behind while the rest of the class went away. Even then, she showed no frustration, just bent down and started picking up her books. Distracted, she didn't notice Harry sneaking from behind, reacting only when Harry grabbed her arm. By then, it was too late, as Harry already apparated away with her.

Harry stumbled when his feet touched the target ground, a heavily warded private island on Atlantic, one of the properties of the Black family. It was the traditional location to hold a duel when two prospective heads decided to duel for the Lordship of the family, so it was heavily warded. It should be enough to prevent whatever Jean was capable of putting out. Or so he hoped.

"Harry, please send me back to school," she said, surprising Harry with the extent of her emotional suppression. She should be feeling anger, fear, or at least curiosity at the moment, not this logic zombie approach. "Or should I assume that you are initiating hostilities."

"Maybe," Harry said, wanting to test her reaction to his statement. The attack that followed would have caught him blindsided if it wasn't for his ability to sense the energy she collected for the attack, delivered through a telekinetic push. Still, it was weak enough to splash harmlessly on the shield Harry erected. He spent a second, trying to decide his next move. On the one hand, he could escalate the fight, hoping that anger would be enough to break whatever was preventing her from feeling emotions. Or he could go fun way…

He apparated in front of her and grabbed her hair before she could even react, and pulled her towards him, his lips meeting halfway with hers. Her body was motionless in shock, but Harry continued kissing her. He could feel the power inside her, one he was barely able to feel during the day, stirring. He pushed his tongue between her lips, which she parted reflexively, giving his tongue a free reign in her mouth. Her lips started to move in response, and soon her tongue joined the fray. Hesitant, careless, but consistent.

When she pulled back and slapped Harry with all her might, Harry preferred to take it as a positive statement. Especially since her next action was reconnecting for the kiss, this time heated, aggressive. Harry could feel her secondary power rising, only to stuck to a limit in some kind of metaphorical cage. One suspiciously looked like a mental trap that hid some nasty surprises if breached. Harry was only able to recognize it because it felt a lot one of the nasty traps Voldemort developed towards the end of the war, triggering a deadly reaction if the victim managed to throw the imperius. Harry had no idea what was hidden or whether it was something equally deadly, but whatever it was he was able to untie it without triggering, dissolving the rest of the barrier that was separating her from her power and the full range of her emotions.

Then, he felt a monumental spike in her power, enough to make him doubt the wisdom of his earlier decision to dissolve the barrier completely. But Jean's next action was enough to focus his full attention on the present. She grabbed his shirt, and pulled hard, tearing it to pieces. His pants and underwear shared the same fate, through the application of her power instead of brute force. "Kinky," Harry said pulling back from the kiss, trying to assess the situation.

He did a double-take when he saw her green eyes smoldering in arousal, deeper than he ever seen, even compared to Fleur after a month of abstinence, and she had a magical heritage with a tendency to develop sex addiction. Harry belatedly remembered that her emotions were being blocked, and that likely included her arousal. Blocks that he destroyed completely. It was probably the first time she felt the full brunt of her arousal. For a moment, he considered convincing her to stop. Then, a fire covered her, not damaging her skin or hairs, but destroying everything artificial, including all of her clothing. Her power flared further, making magically subduing her an unappealing option. Not that Harry really considered it. In front of him, there was a redhead covered in fiery flames, burning with passion. He wasn't stupid enough to turn such a beautiful invitation.

Harry took a step towards her and caught her lips, lips that answered with an even greater fervor, her tenacity more than compensating for her lack of experience. Her tongue pushed towards his mouth, and his tongue darted out to meet in the midway, with no intention of conceding the dominance. Her body pressed tight, her juices infusing shaft, her nipples pressing hard enough to hurt. The good kind of hurt. Her hips started to move, rubbing the side of his shaft consistently. Harry could feel the power spilling down in spades, power enough to burn down London completely if directed maliciously. It was enough to convince Harry about the rightness of his action. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if the barrier broke down while she was in distress or in pain. Or worse, while she was seeking revenge.

Then, Jean's hand found his shaft, directing it towards her opening, and all of his concerns burnt away, leaving only the focus to present. He wrapped his arms around her torso and pushed, destroying her barrier in one smooth motion, pain barely registering to her if the exultant expression on her face was any indicator. Harry pushed, easily traveling through her wet tunnel, earning a moan of pleasure from Jean. He could feel the power was filling him, focusing on his right arm, the location that was bitten by the basilisk, but it quickly spread through the rest of his body. He could feel himself losing cohesion as the power invaded his whole being. He barely noticed he was floating, Jean still firmly on his cock, rocking enthusiastically, while her lips trying to devour his. All the cohesion lost, the world reducing into nothing but pleasure, joy, and fire. Endless fires scorched the barren island, but instead of leaving a blackened mess behind, plants sprayed out of the barren stones. Grass, flowers, huge trees…

Meanwhile, Jean's insistent squeezing finally overcome his resistance, and he started spraying her insides, power filling him even more at every spurt of his seed. He suddenly found himself in space, filled with endless flames, but it paled to the majestic giant bird in front of him. She resembled Fawkes at the moment of her rebirth, covered in flames, just before she burned to cinders. But the one in front of him burned continuously, eternal and majestic. Harry instinctively realized that he was standing in front of the Phoenix, Fawkes and other phoenixes were nothing more than her fragments spread through the universe…

For a moment, he was sure that he would be consumed by the fire. He carried the power of Phoenix in front of him since he was fourteen, but it was a fragment of a fragment, a drop of water in an endless ocean. He could feel himself ascending, getting more and more powerful, but his sense of self was burning in the process. He found it funny that the Phoenix didn't even have a bad intention. With the connection in place, he could read her intentions. She thought she was helping him to get stronger, readying him for coming tribulations. Funny in a very macabre sense, of course.

Then, despite all the flames, he felt a sudden cold feeling covering his shoulders, and he felt a tight band of coldness on his index finger in his left hand. On his right hand, he could feel the familiar weight of a wand, a wand that he ripped out of the dead fingers of Tom Riddle. "No sister," he heard a voice speaking. "You cannot have him. I staked my claim first. But I can share if you promise to be nice." The Phoenix cried, a cry strong enough to atomize a planet, so Harry was pretty surprised to realize it felt more like a petulant cry of a seven-year-old who just got told she had to share her toy with her playmate. Harry felt genuinely curious despite facing a power strong enough to snuff the galaxy. "It's not the time yet, 'master'," the cold voice said, an undertone of humor hidden in the word. With that, Harry found himself back in the island, still releasing his load inside Jean.

Harry was inclined to stop and think about what happened, but Jean showed she had no intention of allowing it, still burning with the Phoenix's power, though considerably lesser compared to just a moment ago. Harry shrugged, it wasn't like having sex with her until one of them collapsed from exhaustion was a bad thing. So he wrapped his arms around her and plummeted towards the ground, pushing her on the newly grown grass, tall and thick enough to make a very comfortable bed. Harry pulled his cock out and noticed a benefit of his newly attained power, his cock was considerably bigger. He placed his cock, still lubricated with her juices, between Jean's tits, which also grown a couple of cup sizes, and started sliding between them with a reckless abandon. Her flame infused lips parted open and caught the head, giving it the sloppy attention it deserved, triggering another orgasm in him just a minute later. Normally, it would have caused a delay, but in his enhanced state, his cock didn't soften even for a moment.

But, before he could do anything, Jean pushed him down with telekinesis, and straddled on his midsection, his cock sliding inside her once more. She started rocking her lips, desperate for another climax of her own. One of Harry's hand found her tits, sinking deep into her supple flesh, while his other hand found was busy kneading her ass. This time, Jean orgasmed, her tightening enough to trigger a climax of his own. Still, Jean showed no sign of stopping. Several hours passed in a passionate embrace, their minds mashing together, making them know each other in a way years of relationship barely able to match…

Harry decided to take a breather despite feeling fresher than he started, and a glance was enough to see that Jean was in the same conditions. Harry had no problem continuing, but there were things to do. "Five minutes break," he whispered in a husky tone, smiling when a tremble passed through her body.

"Why, have you tired already?" Jean said with a mocking smile.

Harry decided her cheekiness deserved some delicious punishment, but that was more appropriate for times when they weren't enhanced to a superhuman level of endurance and desire by a supernatural entity. "Definitely not, but I need to send an important letter. And you need it too if you don't want the X-men to go into a total panic mode."

"Professor," Jean said, her eyes suddenly burning in anger, no doubt angrier about the mental blocks. After all, he was the only one that had the power and the opportunity to put those on.

Harry reached to her nipple and twisted it, earning a moan. He suppressed the desire to push her down and continue their intimacy, and spoke once more. "While Baldy is not one of my favorite people, let's not go full vengeance on his ass until we learn his motives. If I'm guessing correctly, the guy is suffering from Dumbledore syndrome, and while that deserves some punishment and a set of really nasty pranks, going full vengeance is not the best solution unless we discover he had dark intentions instead of flat incompetence about something he didn't fully understand." She looked unconvinced, so Harry decided to convince her with a dirty trick. He pushed his fingers into her slit and pumped briefly, only to pull a few seconds later. "Either you listen, or no sex for the next three hours."

Jean laughed. "You're evil, but I see your point. I will write a small tone saying I realized he modified my mind, and I need some time off to come to terms with it. Perfectly true."

Harry laughed and turned his attention back to the problem he was having. He had no idea how long they would stay on the island, and he couldn't leave Wanda with just Kreacher for such a long period. He considered candidates for help. Hermione was out instantly, she would most probably drive Wanda crazy in her zeal to understand her powers. Daphne was also out, while she was a sweetheart to her precious people, she was still a stone cold bitch against strangers and acquaintances. Luna was also out, the world didn't deserve the particular brand of insanity of Luna combined with Wanda's power. Susan was probably busy, Narcissa was too absurd to even to contemplate. She would wrap poor Wanda around her fingers in less than a day.

"Fleur it is," Harry murmured. Not only she was the calmest along his girlfriends, she had also experienced a similar challenge while learning to control her emotion dependent magical powers, so she brought decent insights to the table to help Wanda. He tried to conjure a pen and paper, only to summon two misshapen piles of metal and paper. "Fuck," he murmured. His control was basically gone. He took a deep breath, and opened his hand, the elder wand popped into his hand. He couldn't help but chuckle when he imagined how would Magical Britain react if they realize he was using the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in existence, to moderate his power output. He conjured two sets of pen and paper, passing one set to Jean, then scribbled a lengthy message, explaining the full extent of Wanda's situation and her challenges. After completing, he cast another spell, sending the envelopes to their intended targets.

Then, he turned back to Jean, who was waiting for him with an eager expression. "So, where were we…"

* * *

 **Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to review, every review is precious.**


	3. Chapter 3

It had been one week. One week since he apparated to the untouched island with Jean. One week since he unleashed the link Jean shared with a cosmic entity that's beyond comprehension. One week since its power infused his body, transforming him irrevocably, with only Deathly Hallows preventing his identity to fade into the influx of power.

The week passed with no sleep, no nourishment, no rest, filled with nothing but unbridled pleasure. Harry was sure that if it wasn't for the power of the Phoenix refreshing them continuously, they would have collapsed in exhaustion, acute enough to risk death. Instead, Harry was lying on the sandy beach of the island, enjoying the scorching rays of sunlight as Jean rested her head on his chest, listening his heartbeat. Harry felt content. During the week, their power, their memories, even their soul was touched ata fundamental level, allowing them to know each other intimately. Harry sighed, trying to reign the awakened feelings as he looked the amazing beauty resting while her limbs wrapped around him. While he was tempted to push her down and restart the festivities that kept them busy for the all week, he still needed to back and check Fleur and Wanda. Not to mention some alone time to center herself would also be helpful for Jean.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he remembered someone else that was invested the situation, someone that led him in the first place. He flared a sliver of his newly acquired power and Fawkes flared into existence before them, singing a song of absolute happiness. "Yes, you ruddy bird," Harry said with a smile. "I managed to solve the issue. Let me introduce you to Jean, an avatar of the Phoenix force." Fawkes sang a question. "Yes," Harry answered. "I also have some of the power of the Phoenix. For some reason the word Herald coming to my mind as a descriptive."

"The Herald of Phoenix," Jean interjected, a suggestive smile on her lips. "I like it, especially if I go with codename Phoenix." She sighed in contentment, then continued in a much more serious tone. "So, what do we do now?"

"Fawkes will stay with you, and she is going to teach you about how to use the powers you just awakened without being overwhelmed. With the breadth of powers you have, a mistake can be deadly, for you or anyone near you."

"How about you," Jean said. "You also gained a lot of power, won't you have trouble controlling it?"

"It's a bit different for me. Instead of having a direct access to Phoenix force like you do, it merged with my magical abilities, for lack of a better term. Meaning I need to search for a teacher that is more fit to my skills. I'm just thankful that it's not fundamentally different from my wandless skills, so I shouldn't have any trouble unless I'm forced to use excessive force."

"I understand, but I wish you stayed with me. I will miss you."

Harry chuckled, then leaned for a peck, which turned into a heated duel of tongues in short order. A few minutes later, Harry pulled back reluctantly. "Don't worry, I will visit. But I need to go now, or I won't be able to leave for another week." He apparated away after one last peck as a farewell, aiming the Potter manor.

He appeared in the living room with a crack, only to witness a very interesting sight of Fleur educating Wanda on a different curriculum. Fleur and Wanda were lying on the couch, both dressed down to their underwear, Wanda with a conservative white set, and Fleur with a thin, lacy set that hid little from his sight. Their lips were locked together, hands caressing each other's bodies heatedly, still obvious to his entrance despite the loud crack of apparation, even louder than usual due to his influx of power. For a moment, he considered a plan to tease Wanda, acting like a jealous boyfriend, but he hadn't gone forward with it. After the asylum, and with the limited control over her powers, it was better not to take the risk to play a lame joke on Wanda. "Impressive method of teaching, Fleur," he said instead.

Both girls jumped up, Wanda in a panic as her hands trying to cover her breasts, Fleur with exultation. "Hello, 'arry, welcome back," Fleur said, stressing her accent on his name, well aware of its arousing effect on him.

Wanda just sank behind the couch in an attempt to hide from his gaze. When she appeared once more a minute later, she was wearing a simple set of skirt and blouse, hiding her underwear from sight. "Hi, Harry," she said with a small voice, her face burning crimson.

Harry was tempted to tease her, but the seeds of tears on the corner of her eyes stopped him once again. Her panic was obvious, expecting him to react negatively, maybe because she assumed he wouldn't support same-sex relationship, or maybe because she was just caught kissing his girlfriend. Harry didn't trust words to be effective, so he silently walked and sat on the couch, patting his hand next to him. Wanda sat there, though the hesitation was still clear on her face, obviously expecting a negative reaction, though she still followed his direction. Harry just hugged her. His touch proved much more effective than any word can be, and her arms wrapped around his waist in reply, squeezing him tight. "It's okay Wanda," he whispered in her ear. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Wanda said nothing in response but lifted her head enough to look into his eyes, then pressed her lips to his on a panicked dash. Harry couldn't say that he was surprised with her action, and he replied as passive as he could manage, moving his lips just enough to convey a message of welcomeness. He didn't want to overwhelm her with her first kiss. For almost a minute, Wanda kept her lips transfixed to his, then jerked back in panic, turning her gaze towards Fleur, clearly expecting a negative response.

But, Fleur was apparently even more sensitive than him about her insecurities, standing ready. She didn't say anything, just leaned forward and captured Wanda's lips with a deep kiss of her own. Harry felt the tension draining from Wanda's body as she answered Fleur's lips, internalizing, for the first time, that both he and Fleur had no problem with what was going on.

With that issue solved, Harry turned his attention towards Fleur. It had been a while since they were able to meet, and she deserved a big reward for dropping her own business and answering his call instead. He stood up and moved to her back, grabbed her hair, and gently pulled it away, revealing her delicate neck. He pressed his lips on the back of her neck, enhancing his touch with a sliver of magic.

Fleur shivered, her allure flaring just a bit, heating up her kiss with Wanda. After a minute, they separated, and Fleur spoke. "Harry, why do your lips feel different." An erotic tremble passed through her body. "It almost feels like allure, but it's somehow different, more…"

Harry just chuckled. He wasn't intending to keep what happened a secret from her, but that didn't mean that he was going to launch a long explanation of what happened instead of tasting her exquisite body. "Long story," he said, a smile spreading over his face. "If you want to stop and listen-" he continued, only to be cut by Fleur's finger, pressing on his lips.

"No stopping now," she said. "We can leave the storytelling to when you are too tired to move." Harry smiled at her naked challenge before leaning forward towards her body once more, his lips locking with her slender neck. Then, his lips migrated to her shoulders, leaving a wet trail of kisses behind. She returned to the kiss she was sharing with Wanda, her enthusiastic moans filling his ears. His hands landed on the small of her back, crawling downward, sliding under her panties. He felt her supple ass under his touch, every squeeze making her squirm a little. Harry was tempted to push forward, but he reigned his desires. He didn't want to scare Wanda with his aggressiveness.

Just a moment later, the decision was taken from his hands by Wanda herself, with her hands reaching towards Harry's belt and freeing Harry's cock from the confines of his pants after a brief struggle, her fingers trying to wrap around his shaft. She jerked back in shock. "It's impossible," she jerked back in shock. "There is no way this can fit inside anyone."

Fleur chuckled, even as her hands reached her bra, unlocking it with one smooth motion. "Let me show you," said with a cheerful tone, turning towards him, only to stop in a double-take. "Harry, why is your cock bigger?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral, but Harry could easily hear the excitement and shock she was trying to keep obscured.

"Same long story," Harry said. "Since you already promised Wanda that you will show how to fit it inside, why don't we start with that and leave the story for the later., when you are too sore to move." With that, he sat back on the couch, his legs parted a little, his enhanced cock on full display.

Fleur licked her lips in anticipation, showing she was more than ready to take his challenge, and crouched down. "First lesson," Fleur murmured, her eyes transfixed on his length. "Lubrication." She gave it a lick across its length, causing a pleasurably shiver to went through her body. She wrapped her hands around the bottom while her lips were busy with the crown, gently massaging his cock. Then, she parted her lips large enough to accommodate his new girth, encasing the top portion between her lips. Wanda was watching, transfixed as Fleur's head bobbed up and down, slow enough to tempt Harry. Normally, Harry would grab her hair and fuck her mouth, something they both enjoyed, but the presence of Wanda disqualified such aggressive moves, at least for the first few times.

Harry sat calmly as Fleur kissed, licked, and caressed his cock in her own leisure, everyone in the room heating up nicely. Then Fleur stood up, and pulled down her panties in one smooth motion. "Second less, preparation," she said and pushed Harry's knees a little, sitting in the middle of them. Harry brought his fingers in her entrance, already wet with anticipation. His first two fingers slid inside without even the slightest resistance, the third joining after a brief wait. Fleur started squirming as Harry slowly pumped his fingers inside her, returning the teasing she delivered earlier. "Of course, some additional teasing around the nipples is always a bonus," Fleur added, and recognizing her determined looks, Harry made no attempt to reach her tits. Fleur's hand darted and caught Wanda's hair, pulled her towards her tits, soft enough not to hurt, but hard enough to make disagreeing an unappealing option. Not that Wanda had shown any sign that she would be displeased with such a development, eagerly sucking Fleur's nipple.

Soon, Fleur's charged cries started to echo between the walls, tempting Harry to stop their little play, push her down, and plow her until she fell unconscious, but he held back, focusing the feeling on the skin of his fingers, feeling the contraction of her tunnels. He gathered his magic on his fingertips, enhancing Fleur's pleasure to a point that would make her resistance frazzle. "Third lesson, penetration," she said, and Harry pulled his hand out her slit. She raised her hips and positioned herself above his cock, readying herself for penetration, her legs trembling in anticipation as she hovered above. Wanda pulled back, her breath out of control, and a fumbling reach later, her bra pulled away, revealing her breast for Harry's gaze for the first time. One of her hands found her nipples, slowly but rhythmically caressing her tits, while her other hand slipped inside her panties.

Then, Harry's attention pulled back by Fleur, who started to push down, her strained cry as his cock slid inside almost a novelty. Her tunnel swallowed his cock bit by bit, squeezing it tight. "So big," she moaned, as she stopped pushing herself, trying to acclimate herself to his new girth before moving even deeper.

As he waited Fleur to move once again, Harry reached towards Wanda's thigh, massaging it lightly. Wanda stood up after a few seconds of his attention, making him curious about whether he did something wrong, but instead of moving away, she snuggled closer to him, close enough for her shoulder to touch his. Never to turn down such a nice invitation, Harry reached towards her naked breasts, gently caressing. Wanda's hesitant moans mixed with Fleur's arousing cries, her gaze locked on where his cock where it continued its act of slow disappearance. Harry lowered his hand, and cast a vanishing charm on Wanda's panties, leaving her slit bereft of the protection it brought. Wanda's legs parted open in invitation, an invitation his fingers happy to answer, caressing her wet lips gently, while her hand moved towards his shaft, trembling in excitement. She grabbed the bottom of his cock, where Fleur hadn't reached yet, caressing hesitantly.

Then, after Fleur get used to his new thickness, he decided to spice things up a little. He put his hands on Fleur's waist and lifted her up, not feeling even the slightest bit of strain thanks to the strength boost he received from the Phoenix. He stood up and bent her over the couch in a way her mouth positioned close to Wanda's entrance, ensuring Wanda's entertainment as he enjoyed wrecking Fleur's entrance.

He pressed his cock at Fleur's entrance once more, this time sliding inside in one stiff push. "Oh, yes," Fleur cried. "It feels amazing, please push it even harder, stretch me until I'm ruined. Fuck me!"

"Such a dirty mouth," Harry calmly commented even as he pushed deeper. "I think we need to find a better use for your mouth so that you could stay silent instead." He put his hand on the back of her head and pushed her down to Wanda's nether lips, whose legs were still parted in invitation. Fleur's tongue dived down to business, transmitting the tremors in her body to Wanda's. Harry quickened his pacing, and felt Fleur's aura suddenly flooding the room. Harry smiled with lust, it had been a while he felt Fleur's unrestrained aura, with both of them busy with their work. But since Fleur knew how much he enjoyed the feeling of her aura, she had turned it to a game between them, keeping it as tight as possible, which usually meant two or three orgasms, so its unveiling was a nice surprise.

Then a final moan escaped Wanda's mouth, and she lost all the tension on her body, fading into unconsciousness listlessly. Fleur raised her head to say something, but Harry decided to leverage the fact that their innocent observer was finally out of the equation to finally start the action. He grabbed her hair and pulled her back hard, and a pained yelp escaped her mouth, though short-lived as Harry's tongue invaded her mouth, silencing her even as he continued to impale her, every repeat pushing him even deeper, mixing pain with pleasure. He could feel his orgasm gathering momentum, but he did nothing to slow it down, just continued to pump inside her, and soon, he sprayed her insides with his seed, triggering a massive orgasm in Fleur, enough to cause her legs to lose control. "That was amazing," Fleur murmured in satisfaction. "I can get addicted to this new body of yours."

Harry smiled. "Oh my dear beauty, apparently you forgot one important fact in your haze. I never stop with just one," he said, and pushed his erection into her once more, already hard once more…

* * *

It was the morning, and Harry was having a breakfast with Fleur, the latter sitting on his lap without a stitch of clothes, when a red-faced Wanda finally gathered enough courage enter to the living room, only to run inside in shock. "Come in, Wanda," Fleur shouted. "It's not like you hadn't seen everything." Wanda walked back inside, her face vermilion. She sat down at the breakfast table, trying to keep her eyes on her plate, but her attempts to discretely glance towards them failed spectacularly again and again. "So cute," Fleur chuckled at Wanda's apparent hesitation. "Such a pretty blush. Maybe we should start calling you Scarlet Witch?"

Wanda's blush intensified under Fleur's comments, but Harry could see a carefree smile tugging at the edge of her lips. No doubt, a week with Fleur helped her to shed a lot of her insecurities and doubts. Fleur had always been very sensitive and caring under her haughty exterior, proved by her ability to reach Wanda in such a short time period. "How are you feeling this morning, Wanda?" Harry said, resting his hand on Fleur's breast.

"Good," she mumbled in a barely audible voice. She looked at them, like she was trying to say something, only to elect to stay silent.

Guessing the reason of her hesitance wasn't a difficult task. "Look, Wanda," Harry said. "I can understand why you feel overwhelmed about the last night. But you don't have to feel pressured about anything, we are more than willing to let you approach with your own pace." He waited until she nodded in understanding, and changed the subject. "So, tell me about your other lessons. Were you able to see any improvement in your control…"

* * *

Harry apparated inside his new mansion in the outskirt of the Bayville, already complete thanks to the diligence of Goblins. However, he had more important things than touring his new place. He still yet to finalize his plan to approach to Professor Xavier. If he was truly similar to Dumbledore, Harry didn't expect anything other than an indirect manipulation that he could easily hide from his followers, sprinkled with a generous dash of misdirection. The impressions he garnered from Jean's memories directed towards such a situation, though Harry was reticent to commit. After all, for all his supposed principles about not abusing his power, he sure was quick to turn Jean to an emotionless doll in order to suppress a power that he knew nothing about, though Harry doubted he would have done that if he had realized he had been turning Jean into a nuke with a hair trigger, waiting to go off at first real crisis.

Still, while an explicit attack from him was a low-probability event, Harry didn't discount the possibility of him sending Scott or some other hothead towards him with a few 'careless' word, while acting sorry about overreaction of the teenagers afterward. More importantly, there was a change the encounter would happen in the school or another crowded place, where any civilian injuries could conveniently blamed on him. Direct action would be the best, he decided.

A flare later, he blinked into existence a bit ahead of the Mansion gate, then walked towards it in a slow, calm stride, wondering who he was going to meet first. He stood in front of the gate and pressed the intercom. "I'm here to speak to Professor Xavier," Harry spoke to the receiver. No answer came, but the gate opened slowly, in a twisted invite. "Not ominous at all," Harry snorted as he walked inside, not impressed by his cheap theatrics. He could see a man in a wheelchair several hundred meters ahead, surrounded by several people. An attempt of intimidation, no doubt. But before he could ponder about its implications, he felt a very subtle pressure around on his mind, trying to penetrate the outer layer of his occlumency barrier.

A snarl appeared on his face. Professor wasn't doing himself any favors by opening the encounter by a mental attack. It wasn't something Harry had very fond memories about. Between Dumbledore, Riddle, and Snape, his prejudices against mental intrusion lay deep. Still, he decided a bit of a force projection was in order, and started to float in a relaxed manner instead of walking, projecting some of his power outward with a dash of aggressive aura infused, enough to make anyone near him slightly intimidated by his presence. As he floated closer, he could see everyone was on hair-trigger mode, ready to attack in the slightest of provocation. Harry was ready to apparate to a more defensible location in the slightest provocation.

Harry finally hovered just a few feet ahead of Professor, rest of the X-men behind him, collectively glaring him angrily. Then Professor spoke. "Good morning, Lord Potter. I welcome you to my school for Gifted Youngsters."

Harry's eyebrow rose slightly in surprise. Harry hadn't expected him to find that quickly about his real name, but still, if Xavier wanted to unbalance Harry by showing he was able to learn about him, he miscalculated badly. After all, it wasn't like being inconspicuous was something he was used to. Even when he was a child, he was a celebrity, and with long periods of playing scapegoat for the Britain's latest prejudice. And after the war, he was literally the most well-known people in European Magical community despite his best efforts to recluse himself. And using the last name Evans didn't exactly make finding him harder. Any magical that picked a newspaper in the last couple of years was enough to identify him. Still, it meant that Xavier had contacts in Magical society, which meant he was aware of magic, and he had a reasonable idea about his capabilities, at least on the more common ones. "Thank you, Professor," Harry answered, trying to keep his tone even. "But let me tell you, I had some bad experiences with mental intrusions, and considering you already have two strikes to your name in the subject, I would recommend stopping that mental probe."

"I'm sorry, Lord Potter," Xavier said, unable to prevent the smallest twitch in his face. "It was just a habitual security measure I employ to ensure the security of my charges."

Harry was impressed. Just with a few words, the guy managed to present a serious crime as a personal sacrifice he employed for the benefit of his charges. Now, Harry would come off aggressive, unsympathetic and abrasive if he decided to push the subject. "No offense taken, Professor," Harry answered. "Just make sure there is no repeat."

"Of course, Lord Potter," Xavier said. "Can I ask you a question that my charges are very anxious to hear before we adjourn to my office for a private talk." Harry nodded. "How is Jean?"

The tension doubled in the opening. "She is very well," Harry said. "Other than the rage she feels towards you of course," he added, noting slight surprise in the faces of the X-men, especially Xavier just nodded like he expected it, not putting slightest bit effort to defend himself.

"This is unfortunate, but expected," Xavier said sadly. "Still, it's nice to hear she is not suffering under her powers, I was afraid of that."

Harry wanted to explain in front of his group that Xavier's short-sighted interference risked the total destruction of the planet, but he refrained, not wanting to alienate Xavier just yet. "Should we adjourn, then," Harry said.

Xavier nodded, but Scott jumped in, anger palpable in his voice. "But professor, what if he attacks you."

"Don't worry about it Scott," Xavier said with a calm tone, then chuckled heartedly. "After all, I'm hardly powerless myself."

With that, Harry followed Xavier through the corridors, as Xavier led though the school, showing him various locations of the school, including a very impressive construct called Danger room, a technological equivalent to the Room of Requirements. Harry was quite impressed, and slightly wary at the same time. He hadn't known technology was able to create such impressive things, enough to rival some very impressive magical achievements. Then, finally, they entered Xavier's office. "What is your opinion about my school, Lord Potter," Xavier asked.

Harry quirked an eyebrow, trying to understand the reason behind the soft-sell. Maybe he was trying to blunt Harry's attitude by showing just how much he cared about his charges, trying to blunt Harry's anger, but still, it didn't fit. "It is quite nice. Not a Hogwarts, of course, but still impressive for a normal school."

Xavier chuckled. "Well, Lord Potter, not all schools have the advantage of a millennium of magical enhancement." Then his face went back to a serious expression. "May I ask about Jean. How is her condition?"

Harry answered with a chipped tone. "She is well, she is in control of her powers, and she is being trained by someone very capable. That's all I'm going to tell about the subject. The rest is Jean's story, if and when she decides to talk with you."

Xavier nodded. "I understand." After a few minutes of silence, Xavier spoke once more. "Lord Potter, I would like to offer you a job as combat instructor in my school."

Harry looked at him, quite dumbfounded. Of all things he expected, this wasn't one of them. The possibilities and risks of such a situation rushed into his mind. "Why?" he asked, in an effort to gain some time to think more than to hear Xavier's reasoning. After all, he had no doubts that he would receive a heavily edited version out of him, with his true reasoning obscured behind.

"It hadn't been hard to learn about the most recent war in Britain once I have started searching for you," Xavier started. "A group of people, believing themselves to be superior based on their powers, going far enough to declare normal people had no right to live, only to stopped by a man barely out of his teenage years. It's not that different from what mutants are about to face in near future. Many people will target us, trying to make us scapegoats for their warped worldview, while some mutants will follow their ideology of Homo Superior, claiming normal lives are inconsequential in my journey. I need my students ready for what's to come, both physically and mentally."

"Interesting," Harry murmured. "I will take the job," Harry said. It conveniently placed him in a central position that could affect the events without ultimately committing to Xavier's faction. A smile boomed on Xavier's face, causing Harry to hurry up rest of his explanation. "But I will be just here for teaching. I'm not joining your group. So neither I will join any expedition you launch unless the situation is truly dire, nor will I be under your orders. Also, I want two concessions from you in return."

"What are your requests, Lord Potter?" Xavier said.

"If any of the students want to join my group, you will not try to stop them." Xavier nodded in approval, though Harry could see he was less than satisfied with it. Still, he approved, since in the end, he had no actual right to keep people in place if they decided to go away, so it was mostly symbolic. "And you will promise never to manipulate people's mind unless there is a clear and present danger, especially the minds of your own students."

Xavier looked conflicted, but he nodded. "I understand Lord Potter, and believe me it's not something I ever employ without a clear danger, though I admit I can be a bit overzealous when it comes to protection of my students."

Harry nodded. "Well then, let's go meet my new students."


	4. Chapter 4

Harry and Xavier moved towards the training area titled Danger room. His steps were calm as they moved next to Xavier's wheels, but his mind was in overdrive, trying to understand Xavier's angle in offering him the job. Not for a moment, he thought that Xavier was as altruistic as he presented himself, nor the invitation was just about his abilities as a combat trainer. Some of Xavier's reasons were blatantly obvious. First, with Harry having a positive relationship with the group, Xavier would be well-positioned to pull Jean back into the fold. Second, Harry would inevitably bond with several of the students as he taught, but most of them would stay as a part of X-men regardless, especially since Harry had no intention of going to a recruitment drive. Not to mention Xavier probably learned about his tendency to jump with both feet to help to people that he consider friends regardless of the risk, therefore ensuring Harry's presence in any dangerous conflict.

For a more naive man, like Harry was before the war with Voldemort, these reasons would be enough to conclude about Xavier's intentions and sincerity, for a given value of sincerity. But almost for eighteen years, Harry had lived under the weight of Dumbledore's masterful manipulations, leaving him with a sixth sense against manipulation. other people would call it paranoia, but it wasn't paranoia when they were really out to get you. And Xavier's fascination with chess didn't exactly help to extinguish his paranoia, nor did his vast mental powers.

Still, the fact that Xavier had an ulterior motive wasn't a reason enough reject the offer. The job positioned him in a perfect place to study a diverse group of people with powers under a variety of controlled conditions, something that was almost impossible to attain. Not to mention, it would place him back into action, something he sorely missed after the last of the Death Eaters had been hunted. "What exactly you are expecting me to teach them? Close combat, tactics, coordination?" Harry asked.

"I don't have anything in particular in mind," Xavier said. "My contacts came with glowing references about your teaching ability, so it would be prudent leave you free for the initial lesson plan. The students stand to benefit from your unorthodox approach."

"I have no problem with that," Harry said, taking the note about Xavier's knowledge of his stint as a combat trainer, though he found it more interesting that Xavier was volunteering information about the depth of his research with no apparent benefit. Most likely an olive branch, Harry surmised, though he was yet to discount a hidden motive. "By the way, since we are going to be colleagues, please just call me Harry."

"My pleasure, Harry," Xavier replied. "Then, please call me Charles in return." With that, their talk drifted to other topics, with occasional insights from Xavier about most prevalent traits of the students. Soon, they were at the entrance of the Danger Room, with the rest of the X-men gathered in a circle, a heated discussion flowing between them. Their voice was too low for Harry to hear, but the heated glares the students sent to his way made it easy to guess the content.

"I have an announcement," Xavier said, breaking up the conversation. "Lord Potter agreed to take the role of combat instructor to assist you in developing your abilities." The hostile buzzing of the group wasn't a surprise for Harry, but Xavier hadn't welcomed it. "Silence," he said with a steely tone, and the shouts were cut, though it did little to soften the glances sent to his way. "I know you are blaming him about Jean's disappearance, but the issue is more complicated than you are aware of." He waited for a second, letting his words to be processed by the crowd. "It's not news that Jean was having significant problems in controlling her powers despite our best efforts of assistance."

"Was it really that bad?" Scott asked, panic obvious in his face, most of it hidden by his reddish sunglasses.

"It was bad enough for it be noticed from the other side of the ocean," Xavier answered. "That was when Lord Potter noticed what was going on, and since it was closer to his area of expertise, he decided to intervene. While cannot say I'm perfectly happy with the way he applied that solution, in the end, it doesn't matter much. The important thing is that Jean has a better control of her powers than ever before, and currently training with an instructor who could help her to enhance her abilities even further." A cover of silence descended to the group, and Xavier turned back to Harry. "Do you want to take from here?" he asked.

"Sure, Charles," Harry answered, and turned towards the students. "Hello everyone, my name is Harry Potter Black, Lord of Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black, but you could call me Mr. Potter. Less clunky and less formal, a much better option since we will be interacting regularly for a foreseeable future. Together, we will be working on your general combat skills and extraordinary applications of your powers."

"Why you?" Scott jumped in, his voice cluing about the extent of hostility he felt towards Harry. "What makes you a good candidate to teach us about our powers?"

Harry smiled benignly despite his inclination to frown. He could see that teaching Scott would be as fun as a prostate exam, especially considering he was the de-facto team leader. "Maybe I will tell some of the stories later on, but for know, let's say that I'm not unfamiliar to war, nor I'm unfamiliar with teaching to the people with diverse powers." He waited for any other comment, only to receive none. "Before starting group training, we will be having one-to-one sessions with every single one of you. I want to make sure I have a correct grasp of your capabilities and your limits. I will share the schedule that after I talk with your current instructors. You are dismissed for today, " There was no point of talking with them at length before they mentally processed the change from a possible enemy to combat instructor. He waited silently as the group slowly dispersed, heatedly discussing the new development, leaving him alone with Logan and Storm.

"So, Charles made you an instructor?" Logan said, a snarl in his voice, his displeasure clear.

"He did," Harry said, keeping his answer short. It was clear that Logan didn't approve his presence. Harry would have tried to soothe him, but Logan didn't give the impression of a person that could be convinced by words. Harry decided to take an alternative path. "How about a friendly spar? It would be good to see each others' abilities."

"Perfect, lad," Logan said, a vicious smile appeared on his face, one that would send most people running away in panic. "Let's see how good of a combat instructor you are going to be." Even before the start, it was clear that Logan's definition of a friendly spar wasn't matching with the one most people had. Still, Harry welcomed the opportunity. Logan was famous for his healing factor, his resistance enhanced further by his adamantine grafted bones, sprinkled with a phenomenal skill in close combat. In other words, a perfect target for testing the limits of the new physical abilities without fear of killing his sparring partner.

"Miss Munroe, would you mind to officiate the match, I have a feeling Mr. Logan is as competitive as me, and we might get carried away in the heat of combat."

"Scared, kiddo," Logan said and walked until he was a few feet away from him. Harry didn't bother to send anything other than "Ready?" he asked. Normally, someone referring him as lad, kiddo, or another variation of boy would anger him. But, coming from Logan, it felt different for some reason. Maybe because it was intentional trash talk rather than a poorly thought out term of diminutive endearment, somehow making it less offensive for Harry.

Harry let a sliver of power to infuse his body, and his perception shifted. He felt supercharged, his sight sharper, his reflexes more fluid, his muscles cracking with power. "Let's start," Harry said, and Logan dashed towards him, his claws already out, swinging towards Harry's chest, near enough to leave thin lines of blood if Harry hadn't moved, but not deep enough to do serious damage. It didn't take a genius to realize Logan was trying to force him defensive while simultaneously testing his reflexes. Harry appreciated him trying to not risk his life, but he had no intention of letting Logan dictate the terms of the fight. Harry leaned back a little, the claws missing him with a hair's breath, then Harry grabbed his wrist, and threw him to the air with a classic Judo throw, though with one little difference. A person didn't float five meters off the ground with a classic throw, especially one weighed nearly three hundred kilos thanks to metal grafted bones.

Harry jumped up to follow, trying to catch him with a kick to his back before Logan could orient himself, but he proved his fame as a close combat juggernaut wasn't just about his regeneration factor. He twisted in the air, leaving three deep marks with on his chest despite Harry's best attempts to twist away. Still, picking offense over defense wasn't for free. Thoroughly unbalanced, Logan wasn't in a position to avoid the subsequent kick from Harry, driving him to the ground with a loud crash hard enough to crack the floor, only to jump back a second later. Harry landed on his feet two meters ahead of him, the wound on his arm bleeding harshly. He was about to cast a healing spell, when he remembered the most famous ability of Phoenixes. He focused on his wound, keeping the concept of healing in his mind.

A gasp escaped Storm's mouth as his wound covered with flames, but before they could do anything, the flames receded, leaving undamaged skin behind. "Healing factor," Wolverine said, his feral smile getting even wider. "Get ready kiddo, there is no holding back now…"

* * *

Harry walked the city streets, a large smile on his face despite the bone-weary exhaustion he was suffering under. His 'spar' with Logan lasted more than three hours, both of them spilling enough blood to kill more than a dozen people as they went against each other in a ferocity more fit to mortal enemies. During that, Harry recognized just how badly he underestimated the powers he got from the Phoenix, even a sliver of it was enough to turn him into a combat machine with physical abilities alone. He was utterly exhausted, but it wasn't because he managed to deplete a part of his new power. No, he was tired, because channeling the Phoenix Force for three hours left his body battered under its strain. Something he hoped to get better as he trained.

Then, he was distracted by a quick motion, something traveling towards him with the speed of a bullet, but much larger. The only reason Harry noticed it was because he kept a low-power alert ward around him, triggering when something moving faster than fifty kilometers per hours projected to pass near him, a useful spell to detect any projectile attack like bullets. An automatic shield blinked into existence around him, only for something to collide it. "Ouch," someone shouted in pain. Harry turned his back to see a white-haired boy lying on the ground, squirming in pain. Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver, one of the members of so-called brotherhood, and daddy's favorite according to Wanda.

Harry disabled him with a stunner before he could stand up once more, then followed up with a strong healing charm to remove the effects of the collision. He didn't want the boy to die from internal bleeding. Then, he started waiting for the rest of the group. With his attention back to his surroundings, he could feel three other people getting closer, their energy signature recognizable from the school. Harry found himself face to face with rest of the Brotherhood. "How can I help you, gentleman," he said standing in front of them without a care.

"Our boss wants to talk you, Potter," the one named Toad said in a harsh tone.

"Sure," Harry said with a mocking tone, preventing himself from face-palming taking quite a bit of effort. When he used the name of Harry Evans to hide, he expected to be found out at one point, but everyone finding out almost instantly was more than he expected. "Let me check my schedule, and we can arrange a meeting."

"Our boss doesn't like to be kept waiting, so either you come willingly, or…" he said, completing his sentence with cracking his fist. Unfortunately for him, it looked as intimating as a small puppy trying copy the stance of a wolf, only considerably less cute. Though Harry found interesting that Lance stood behind rest of them, a conflicted expression on his face, especially when Toad implied that they would force Harry to follow them.

For a moment, Harry considered letting them attack him, and beating them only after a drawn-out fight in which he downplayed his skills. It would be a prudent thing to do, but he just didn't feel like playing after the spar with Logan. Two stunners caught Blob and Toad flat-footed, leaving Lance as the only conscious person apart from him, who was looking shocked with the sudden reversal of fortunes. "They will wake up after an hour," Harry said after waiting a few seconds to see whether he would attack, but Lance just waited warily, showing he was nominally more intelligent than his compatriots. "If I were you, I would find a better group to join. Don't let their powers to trick you, these boys are thugs, nothing more, nothing less. And if you continue following them, you won't end up in a place you are happy to be," Harry added before he apparated away, leaving Lance alone with a thoughtful expression on his face.

* * *

The next day, Harry was going back to his mansion after another school day, where he had been watched warily by his new students, though none of them were willing to bite the bullet and talk to him, unbalanced by the sudden change of his status. Still, he didn't let it bother him, they would mellow after spending some time together. That, or they were going to hate him with a burning passion. He wasn't exactly a soft teacher.

"Hi, Harry, wait a second," said a female voice, distracting him from his thoughts. He turned to see Ritzy walking towards him, an attractive blush on her face. "Do you have time for a cup of coffee?" she murmured while playing with her hair, a sincere hesitation coloring her tone. The perfect image of a girl trying to talk her crush.

Too perfect, Harry noted, even as his lips formed a rugged smile. If he hadn't already seen her changing both her appearance and mannerism like clothes, he might have fallen for her act. "Of course," Harry answered. "Though I'm still pretty new around. Do you have any recommendation?"

She beamed at him. "I know a cute place just a few blocks away."

"Lead the way, then," Harry said. They went to the cafe, ordering two lattes, and a cake to share. Though Harry noted that even in the casual discussion, she managed to mix several interesting questions to trip him off and get some answers. He avoided all of them effortlessly, amusedly watching as her frustration rising every time he managed to 'accidentally' deflect her carefully managed traps. "It was nice," Harry said as he stood up an hour later. "We should definitely do that again."

"Sure," she said, standing up in hurry. "By the way, can I borrow your biology book."

"Of course, but it's at home. How about I bring it tomorrow."

Ghost of a satisfied expression boomed on her face, only to fade out in less than a second. "I need it urgently. How about I come with you to pick it up," she said, leaning slightly forward to flash a bit of her cleavage 'accidentally'.

"Of course," Harry said, trying to keep an excited smile away from his face, adrenaline already coursing through his veins. She had tried the casual and it didn't work, so she was moving to something more brazen. Seduction, the most effective tactic of an infiltrator. He found sex with enemy spies especially thrilling, never knowing whether they might shift from seduction to black widow mode. Harry led her towards the first apartment he purchased in the city instead of his mansion, seeing no reason to expose his real base of operations to an enemy spy.

She didn't lose any time before starting the next stage in her play. As soon as they entered the home and closed the door, she pressed her lip on his, merging them in a passionate kiss, her hands already caressing his body. Harry was surprised, not by the action, but by the speed she moved to it. He was expecting her to react like that. In his momentary lull, his reflexes took control. The reflexes of a body that used to have steamy sex with an impressive frequency.

Before Harry could even get a fraction of his control back, his hands already grabbed the edges of her shirt and pulled, its fabric giving him no resistance before tearing apart. But even after he managed to get his control back, he didn't see any reason to slow down, considering she started to kiss him even harder, a sliver of real passion seeping through. Apparently, her tastes lay on the rougher side of the spectrum. Harry didn't have any problem with it. One of his hands traveled on her back, unlocking her bra with one smooth motion, freeing her modest sized, but unnaturally firm chest. Shape-shifting ability had brought some unexpected, yet welcome, benefits.

But she didn't allow him much time to mull over various benefits of her ability when she ripped off his shirt in a similar manner, the buttons flying across the room. "Looking tasty," she murmured, dragging her nail over his chest muscles, pressing harder than necessary, the red mark that her finger left healing instantly. Harry surmised it was much better than the alternatives in testing his regeneration factor. Her eyes shone in recognition, but Harry leaned for her lips once more, acting obvious to her discovery. Instead, he slid his hands under her skirt, cupping her ass, the skin barely covered by her skimpy panties.

He raised her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Harry took a few steps towards the nearest door and imprisoned her between the wall and his body, pressing tight. Her hips rocked, showing her happiness with the situation, along with her tongue trying to invade her mouth repeatedly, only for Harry's tongue to prevent her assault, invading her mouth in a counter-attack. The wall scraped her back with every motion, only resulting in more enthusiastic moans. But still, despite all of her enthusiasm, Harry could feel that she was still holding back, treating it as an infiltration scheme.

It wasn't acceptable! Harry took pride in the fact that he was able to blow the mind of every woman he had been together, and the fact that she was an enemy, or that she was doing it to get information wasn't a deciding factor. He decided to reach for his box of tricks, and laced his tongue with a sliver of magic, enough to multiply the sensation of pleasure she felt. She stiffened for a second, then attacked him with a renewed vigor, their tongues tying together as she tried to extract the maximum amount of pleasure.

Harry decided to move the situation to the next level. A weak spell later, his pants unbuttoned and slid down, leaving only his boxers to contain his shaft. With only their underwear as a barrier, her wetness quickly seeped through the fabric, infusing his skin. He started moving his hips, rubbing her cunt consistently, every push enhancing her fever. Still, Harry decided the presence of the underwear was unnecessarily restrictive, and another tug later, her underwear fell to the ground on two separate pieces, leaving her socks as the only piece of her clothing. Another tug saw that his boxers shared the same fate, leaving two naked, sweaty body in full contact.

She raised her hips before he could act, positioning her entrance perfectly. Never one to turn down such a kind invitation, Harry pushed his cock inside her, breaching her tight tunnel, giving plenty of resistance despite its wetness. But Harry hadn't had to worry about whether she was uncomfortable, considering her moans intensified even more. Harry wrapped his arms around her legs and lifted her hips a little for the perfect position. "Ready for the best sex of your life?" he asked.

A daring smile appeared on her face. "In my experience, braggarts often disappoint. I hope that won't be the case for you, Mr. Evans."

A matching smile formed on his lips. "Daring. I like it. But try to control your mouth, lest it writes checks your ass can't cash," he said, sliding his finger to her puckered hole, showing just how literal his statement was. Her eyes grew in shock as his finger invaded her tight hole, one quickly melted into arousal. Harry started plowing her with a reckless abandon, abusing her immobile body, locked between the wall and his body. Soon a second finger joined the first one in her puckered hole and her moans intensified, helped by the dash of magic Harry added the mix, arousing the nerve bundles in a way hard to achieve with the mundane methods.

He smiled, enjoying the moans ringing in his ears, every motion pushing her even deeper into the equation. The way she squeezed his cock reminded him of Tonks, utilizing her shape transformation skill to great effect. Apparently, 'Riley' also noticed the unexpected windfall from her power, and was using them to great effects. Still, it made Harry less concerned with the implications of using his own skills. He was perfectly willing to escalate.

He gathered a bit of his magic on his lips, and pressed them to the nook of her neck, causing her back to arch, her legs around his waist, showing her enthusiasm as he repeatedly slammed her. He could feel the pleasure building up, and he had every intention of making her orgasm explosive enough to make her faint. So, he decided to walk to the bed. Not bothering to stop, pull out, or actually unwrap her legs around his waist, he started walking towards the bedroom, with her jumping alluringly in each step. Even after arriving at the bedroom, he didn't bother to pull out, just lay her on the bed, not skipping a beat. He could feel her release was not far, so he turned things up a notch. He placed his free hand on her breast, twisting her nipples with his magic-laden fingers. Meanwhile, he linked another tendril of magic to his cock and quickened his pace.

She started shuddering with an explosive release, melting in his arms. Though it also had an unexpected bonus, with almost absolute loss of concentration, he noticed her whole body going through a transformation. Harry ended up holding up a mature looking woman with red hair, blue skin, and a bit weird skin texture. Harry licked his lips. Despite the transformation, she was still quite hot, and it wasn't like he hadn't had some extraordinary sex whenever Fleur was in Veela form or Tonks was feeling particularly creative. "So, this is your original form," Harry asked in a conversational tone.

He didn't expect her eyes to open in shock and her arm trying to come up with a blow, though stopping her had been almost trivial with the strength upgrade he received. He was ready to assume she was attacking her because he managed to uncover her identity, then he noticed her eyes, filled with self-loathing and disgust. It didn't take long to identify the most probable reason. She had some negative connotations based on some asshole reacting negatively to her original form. Assholes.

While calmly talking and explaining her original form was quite gorgeous in an exotic way was an option, Harry chose to convey his feelings in a more direct way. He leaned and captured her lips in a heated kiss, feeling the shock going through her body. He wanted to deepen the kiss by adding his tongue to the equation, but he was actually afraid of the fate of his tongue. She received passively almost a minute, making Harry wonder about the effectiveness of his approach.

Then, her lips started to move in response. The kiss was slow, hesitant, a far cry from her earlier burning kisses. But Harry didn't push, he could feel a tenderness, a vulnerability in her kiss, and he didn't want to ruin the moment by turning it into hardcore sex. He hovered above her, and they continued kissing her for several minutes tenderly. Then, he noticed her twisting her hips to align with his cock. Never one to turn down such a kind invitation, he slipped inside and started sliding in an out, again, softly, tenderly. Harry could feel them connecting on a primal level. Their tender dance continued until both of them attained their release, and Harry found himself lying on his bed, gently spooning Mystique, who was still in her natural form.

"You are an interesting man, Harry Potter," she murmured, sleep thick her tone. Harry shrugged and wrapped his arms tighter around her torso. He really needed to pick a better alias for himself.


	5. Chapter 5

It was morning, and Harry was having breakfast with Mystique, with her still in her natural form. Both were wearing bathrobes, but considering they were deliberately left untied, it did little in terms of preserving their modesty. Mystique flinched almost unnoticeably whenever Harry's eyes fell over her naked body, like she was expecting disgust and revulsion, so Harry made sure to reflect his arousal to his gaze, a message her reinforced further by occasional lazy caresses from his wandering hands. Some people were real idiots, Harry concluded, if they were willing to hate her appearance just because it was outside their experience.

"So, how is Wanda," Mystique suddenly asked, the question cutting the lingering laziness like a dark curse.

For a moment, Harry considered playing dumb, to claim that he didn't know who Wanda was, but after a brief consideration, he decided otherwise. Mystique had plenty evidence to support her guess, which was spot on, about Wanda's whereabouts, and even if Harry managed to convince her he had nothing to do with it, the truth was going to be revealed sooner and later, and the strategic value of hiding Wanda's whereabouts wasn't worth the understanding he managed to establish with her. "She is in my estate in Britain, being trained by one of my girlfriends." Harry was interested to note there was no surprise when he said girlfriend. Her information must have included parts of his private life, he concluded, not that it was hard to find out. Several special extended editions of Teen Witch Weekly had been published over the issue already.

"Have you managed to discover what her problem is?" she asked, her face shining with interest.

"More or less," Harry said. "There wasn't anything wrong with the nature of her power, per se, but it's much more complicated compared to what I have seen in the other mutants, almost like magic, but not quite. Nut a calm mind helps her to control the effects, so meditation helps. Her fears of losing control had been counter-productive. And putting her in an asylum and filling her with drugs was more of a disaster in making than an actual solution."

Mystique's face contorted, but she chose not to reply. Instead, she chose to change the topic. "I'm curious. Why are you supporting Charles' foolish dream?" she said, frustration clear in her tone, which, much to Harry's surprise, was mostly genuine.

Harry let a mysterious smile to settle on his face. "Who said I was supporting him?" He watched as Mystique opened her mouth in surprise, but he continued before she could form any words. "I'm just helping the kids' training, I haven't subscribed to his childish hope that everything will end nicely if only he provides a bunch of shiny mutant heroes. I know how the public reacts to heroes from a personal experience. Even if he was successful for a while, the public will eventually turn on those heroes, given a particularly juicy opportunity. It would take just one crazy teenage mutant deciding to replicate a school shooting with their powers instead of guns, and all the work Charles put on PR would be destroyed in minutes." He could see the beginning of a hope on Mystique's face, so he hurried to clarify his stance. "But that doesn't mean I'll support the supremacist approach of Magneto either."

"But he only wants to protect mutants from the hatred of the humans," she said, fervor shining bright on her face.

Harry sighed. "I appreciate the sentiment, but everything I learned shows that Magneto has a seriously skewed moral compass and a terrible understanding of the long-term implications of his actions. Some of his actions to protect the mutants are only helping to strengthen the supremacist's hands. Not a good leader, in my perspective, and his tendency to target civilians put him into thin ice. I have already risked my life against a man like that. Don't think I will hesitate to target him if he passes that limit. I respect the fact that he had lived through great hardship, but that doesn't grant him a blank check for terrorism." Mystique opened her mouth to answer, but Harry cut her. "I don't want to start a debate over it, at least for now. Let's enjoy our breakfast."

The rest of the breakfast passed in relative silence, if a bit tense. From her face, he could read that his words managed to trigger a flicker of doubt on her face, but Harry was realist enough to understand just a few words won't be enough to cast away years of loyalty and conviction. Still, baby steps. After breakfast, Mystique left with a long, drawn-out farewell kiss, leaving Harry alone to consider the next steps. He debated whether to take some preemptive actions against Magneto, but in the end, he decided against it. Not because he was afraid of the direct consequences or a desire to not to be the aggressor, but through simple strategic reasoning. He had a feeling the full extent of mutant presence in the world was larger than he suspected, and he had no intention of pushing himself to the middle of the board before he knew the identity of the players.

Mystique left after a few minutes, not wanting to be late to the school, leaving Harry alone in the breakfast table. Harry was supposed to prepare and leave but he found himself questioning the continued attendance to the school. It wasn't like there was any further benefit in his attendance, at least none he couldn't attain by just dropping occasionally. He had more important things to do, like developing a better control of his newfound powers. Some training was in order if he ever going to use them without accidentally causing a disaster. A teleportation spell later, he was floating over an unremarkable section of Atlantic ocean, far from any shipping lanes, which meant he could cut free without accidentally slaughtering a shipful of civilians.

He closed his eyes, and sent a thin wave of magic, rapidly expanding in a bubble as an imitation radar wave, making sure he was alone, then leveraged that wave of magic to cast a wide range concealment spell, mainly because he didn't want to cause a worldwide panic in the governments. "Perfect," he whispered and raised his hand. "It's time for a little warm-up."

He lowered his finger, and a thick bolt of lightning rippled from the sky, its aftershock loud enough to deafen a human, if any were unlucky enough to be around. He twisted his finger, and a thick block of water flew upwards, creating a tower more than a mile tall. He waved his hand, and the water turned into solid stone, still flying above the water. A thick column of solid stone more than a mile high, and he was able to levitate it without the slightest strain. He squeezed his fist, and the stone turned into dust, which disintegrated into nothingness in a column of fire.

He looked at his hand, whistling, impressed. What he had accomplished eclipsed any magic he had ever personally cast, and rivaled the tales about the legendary powers of Merlin. His little display probably spent more magic with than his final confrontation with Tom Riddle did. He should have been on the edge of unconsciousness, barely hanging on the waking world, instead, he barely felt a drain. "Let's do a proper test run," he whispered as he raised both of his hands…

* * *

Several hours passed, in which Harry tested a variety of magical applications from subtle to extreme, when he felt a trigger in his emergency ring, as named by its designer, Hermione. He cast a final spell to smoothen the ocean, not wanting to cause an accidental tsunami then teleported back to his manor, where Hermione was waiting for him. He was moving as fast as he could manage, because if Hermione was calling directly through the emergency line, something was seriously wrong.

He appeared in the garden, where Hermione was standing there, her wand in hand, a worried expression on her face. "Hey, Mione? What's wrong?" he asked, his tone serious. It had been a long time since he had seen Hermione in such a blind panic. The last time had been just before his final duel with Voldemort, meant things were even worse than he suspected.

"Some of the sensors had detected an unprecedented flare of magic that lasted for hours. Harry, it's stronger than anything we thought was possible, and it doesn't look like to be a natural event."

A sheepish expression appeared on his face, replacing his earlier serious one. "Was that event happened in the North Atlantic by any chance?"

"Yes, it was. How did you know?" Hermione answered automatically. Then she noticed the guilty expression on Harry's face, and stopped. She turned towards him, her hands on her waist, and spoke in an exasperated tone. "Harry, what did you do?"

"Nothing," he answered in an overly innocent tone almost in reflex, only to receive a glare in return. "Well, it might be me, testing a small boost of power I had received."

She looked at him with shock for a moment, only to be replaced by exasperation. "Only you, Harry," Hermione shook her head. "I need to go back to tell them it's a false alarm before we start to mobilize."

However, Harry had objections to that plan. With both of their schedules quite busy, it had been a long time since they had managed to spend some time together, and he didn't care about Ministry enough to prioritize their comfort over his pleasure. He took a step towards her, put his arm on the small of her back, and whispered in a throaty tone. "No, you are going to send them a message, telling that it was an instrumental glitch. Then we will spend the afternoon together."

She tried to keep the sudden gleam of her eyes secret, but it was in vain, especially combined with the anticipatory shiver that just passed over her skin. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry dipped his head and placed a lingering kiss on her neck, one that was laced with his new power. A moan left her mouth instead of words. "Okay, give me a minute to compose my message." Harry said nothing. He just smiled, knowing Hermione would understand his perspective on her recommendation. "Harryyy," she started to whine only to turn into another moan as Harry started to suck her neck.

Trembling slightly in anticipation under his massage, she turned her attention to the writing she was supposed to compile, the parchment floating in the air without needing any external support. Her pen drifted over it, her normally impeccable writing trembling occasionally as his teeth took a joined to massage her neck. "Harry, slow down a little," she whimpered, trying to make him slow down a bit, but instead of following her direction, his hands quickened even further. Teasing Hermione while she was busy with homework or a book had been something he enjoyed immensely when they were students. With Hermione doing most of her work in her office, it had been a while since Harry had an opportunity to make a nuisance of himself, and he intended to leverage this opportunity for all that was worth.

One of his hands rested on her bottom, but his attempts to caress her left him with a frown. Her robe was far too thick, preventing him from reaching the desired result. Of course, he was never the one that refrained using magic for his less than pristine objectives, so he reached for his magic, letting it infuse every last piece of clothing she was wearing. She moaned with the unexpected rush of feeling, her pen sliding on the paper, leaving a long, ugly line on the paper. "Harry, look what you made me do!" she exclaimed, doing her best to maintain a tone of anger, only to fail spectacularly, unless the trembling moans were a part of anger of course.

"What did I do?" Harry asked with an overdone innocence even as his hands roamed her body without a stop.

The pen stopped for a second as Hermione turned and pinned him under her gaze. Or more accurately, she tried, but much of the fury she managed to gather dissipated in less than a second, leaving only arousal to color her eyes. "You know what it is. The thing you are doing with my clothes. It's too distracting, so stop it."

"Of course," Harry answered, and Hermione's expression relaxed. Though that relaxed state only lasted for a second, when she realized Harry would never fold that easily. Her mouth parted open in panic, but it was already too late. Harry flexed his magic, and every stitch of clothing she was wearing teleported away, leaving her exposed in the middle of the garden. Her arms wrapped around her body reflexively in a poor attempt to cover her body before she remembered they were currently in his private garden and relaxed her arms, though she continued glaring at him, clearly annoyed about the trick he had played her. "Don't be like that, my love," Harry said in good humor, tightening his hold on her. "I missed seeing your beautiful body. Lately, you are always busy."

Hermione sighed and let herself relax in his arms. "Sorry, my love," Hermione answered. "This wretched job is getting more and more complicated every day. The legal system is a bigger mess than we had ever thought, with core tenets hadn't been updated since the Roman invasion, even the preliminary proposal we are preparing will take months, maybe years. And the Department of Mysteries is in an even worse state, and the lack of senior staff after Riddle and Dumbledore's supporters were purged doesn't help either."

Harry listened as he held her tight, wisely keeping his mouth shut. He had warned Hermione about accepting the role of Head Unspeakable would be overwhelming on top of all her other duties, but as to prove her selection to Gryffindor wasn't a fluke despite all her usual intelligence, she bullheadedly accepted the post. Harry suspected it was an intentional ploy from Ministry Bureaucracy, similar to what they had done with Dumbledore, continuing to throw them positions until they were as ineffective as an average Ministry employee in all of them. But Harry wasn't stupid, so he refrained from throwing 'I told you so' card to her face. Neither of them was perfect, and a good partnership required support on rough patches, and identifying the exact distribution of blame was seldom helpful.

For a minute, he stood still, his arms wrapped around the naked waist of Hermione, who was equally motionless, her hand with the pen hanging on her side. Then, her hands rose once more, continued drafting her letter. This time, Harry did nothing until she finished her letter -except sliding one of his hands down, drawing wide circles around her clit, causing her handwriting to slid back to trembling territory- and sent it to its destination with a wave of her hand, her careless display a good indicator of how well her wandless skills had been developed. Apparently, it wasn't enough, because an expression of concentration appeared on her face, then she waved her wand once more. A large couch appeared behind them, and Hermione gently pushed him back, mirroring the small trick he had used countless times before. However, he never loosened his grip around her waist, so when Harry found himself sitting on the couch, Hermione was already firmly on his lap, not that she was unhappy with the situation, seeking the most comfortable position with the exaggerated motions, a mischievous payback for his earlier teasing.

"So, tell me what happened?" Hermione asked a minute later, showing no intention of reaching for her clothes, utterly relaxed in his lap.

"Not much," Harry answered. "Just went for an undercover mission because Fawkes asked me to, discovered a whole subset of humanity with very specialized powers, met with a primordial power of creation and kind of made me her emissary which boosted my powers to an insane degree, and most importantly, we might have some additions to our collective."

"Really, just these few," Hermione murmured, a shocked expression on her face. It took a few seconds for it to get replaced with a cheerful, yet exasperated expression. "Only you Harry, only you. And here I thought things were going to be normal after Riddle's death."

Harry smirked. "Oh. You seem to be wrong on that account." He stopped talking and dragged over his gaze over her curves. "Anyway, that's enough talk. It's time for the important part." With that, he grabbed her waist and lifted her. He willed his clothes away while he was holding her, then he pulled her back on his lap, pushing his shaft halfway inside."

"Harry-iee" Hermione moaned as his shaft slid inside her, and turned towards him, her expression colored with shock. "Is your cock bigger?"

"Maybe," Harry smirked. "Do you want to test it?"

"Don't you dare-" Hermione started, only for her words to dissolve into a wordless, primordial cry as Harry sheathed his cock fully inside her, testing her elasticity to her limits. He would never dare to pull such a move in a mundane woman, but even passively, magic worked wonders in adapting the body to such sudden changes.

A smile bloomed on Harry's face as he watched the exalted expression spreading to her face. "So, what's the verdict," Harry whispered into her ear before pressing his lips to her neck once again.

"You're an asshole, Harry Potter," Hermione whispered, but considering her hips were already rocking back and forth Harry wasn't particularly worried whether her anger was real, especially after a broken string of moans filled the garden.

"But you love me anyway," Harry whispered into her ear.

Hermione let her hips to rise, then she turned until she was face to face with Harry. She lowered herself on his shaft once more, and put her hands on his neck, her brown eyes locked into the depths of his eyes. "Yes," she whispered in a moment of utter seriousness. "I love you anyway."

While he was a bit blindsided by the sudden turn of events, he nevertheless welcomed it. "I love you too, Mione," he whispered before their lips connected in a long, unbroken kiss that went for a long while, all while Hermione continued rocking her lips. Not breaking the kiss, Harry wrapped his arms gently around her back and started pumping her quicker and quicker. Hermione's body started shaking in a familiar manner after a while, and Harry slowed down his pace to a still, their kiss still continuing.

"So, is this a private party, or anyone can join," a familiar voice said. Harry reluctantly pulled out of the kiss, after his eyes caught the view, his annoyance evaporated. It was Fleur and Wanda, standing side by side, dressed only in skimpy swimwear, a red string set for Wanda, which looked downright conservative next to the sky blue set Fleur was sporting despite their revealing cut. Fleur was watching them with a familiar naked interest, though Wanda wasn't too far behind her in that angle, arousal shining her eyes, only slightly blunted by the cute blush on her skin.

"Of course," Hermione answered even without looking. "It had been a long while since I was able to wear him out alone, a little help is always welcome, Fleur," Hermione said without even looking. A cute surprised yelp escaped Wanda's mouth, clearly not expecting such a casual invitation despite her exposure to Fleur. Hearing the unfamiliar voice, Hermione turned her head, though his cock was still firmly lodged inside her. "Hi," she said with a cheerful voice, raising her hand in a shake. "We haven't met before. I'm Hermione."

Harry did his best not to laugh, but a snort escaped his mouth despite his best efforts. Thankfully, Wanda was too distracted by Hermione's unexpectedly cheerful voice and freely bouncing tits to pay attention to such details.

Wanda took a few hesitant steps towards Hermione and grabbed her hand. "My name is Wanda," she managed to murmur.

"How fascinating," Hermione said, and bit his lips, trying not to say anything. He recognized the expression on Hermione's face. It was the one she carried just before she did something brazen and utterly unbelievable. Hermione didn't disappoint. She pulled Wanda closer in a sudden move locked her lips in a heated kiss. A small wave of anxiousness passed through him as he saw Wanda stiffening, but thankfully, she loosened barely a second after and joined the kiss, albeit a bit passively compared to Hermione's heated enthusiasm.

"Hermione, mon ami, please don't break my student," Fleur interjected as she walked closer to her. Hermione pulled away from the kiss to answer Fleur, only for Fleur to lean and capture her lips in a short, but heated one. When she pulled away, she saw Wanda pouting just a bit about the sudden cessation of her acquaintance with Hermione, so Fleur turned her attention with a kiss no less heated than one she delivered to Hermione, but this time, her hands reached to the strings of Wanda's swimsuit, loosening them in her expert touches without Wanda noticing. When she pulled away, Wanda was technically still more dressed than Harry and Hermione, not that it mattered considering the difference was a pair of slippers on her feet. "Let's start the party," Fleur said in a cheerful tone, her hands were busy with getting rid of her own swimsuit while Wanda was busy blushing prettily about her sudden nakedness.

"Amazing idea," Harry said as he took Wanda's hand and pulled her closer. Understanding his intention, Hermione discreetly slid away from his lap, and Harry led Wanda to the space that had been occupied by Hermione a moment ago. "Hello Wanda," he said, then dived to her lips for a kiss of her own, slow and sensual. He prodded her lips with his tongue, asking for entrance, a request Wanda bequeathed without a delay. Harry let his tongue slip inside Wanda's mouth, dancing with hers eagerly. Meanwhile, Wanda managed to sit directly above his shaft, her burning slit making him even harder. He grabbed her hips and led her to move, causing small shivers of pleasure with her each movement.

Harry was a bit surprised when Wanda raised her hips, thinking he pushed her more than she was ready to. He pulled back from the kiss, about to apologize, but her expression stalled his words before they managed to form. There was a bit of fear in her eyes, but they were little sparkles in a sea of enthusiasm. The smile back on his face, Harry leaned to continue their kiss, while Wanda's hand wrapped around his shaft to align it with her entrance. A strained moan later, Harry felt a warmth wrapping the crown of his shaft. He intensified his kiss, encouraging her as they waited until she became more adapted to his presence.

It didn't take long for Wanda to start moving, and impressively, she managed to take the entirety of his size after a just a few tries, though it must have been hard for her, Harry reasoned, basing his theory on the depth of the scratch marks she left on his back. Then, she pulled back, and send a victorious gaze to Fleur, who stopped her kiss with Hermione to give a shrug, which did very nice things with her chest. Curious, Harry looked at her questioningly, and she mouthed a word. "Bet."

Harry turned his attention back to Wanda, trying not to focus on the bet, but it was difficult considering the opportunities brought up by Fleur's forfeit. He didn't know the exact terms, but past experience suggested they were going to be extremely enjoyable. Then, Wanda impaled herself with his shaft once more, pulling his attention back proactively. Their kiss continued from the place they left, his hands roaming over her body, acclaiming himself with the contours of her body.

Even though he hadn't leveraged his magical talents, it didn't take long for Wanda to reach a sudden stop, her body shaking outside her control. Harry waited until her tremors subsided, his arms hanging loosely around her waist. It didn't take long until Wanda was roused from her temporary stupor, leaning for another kiss, a light burning in her eyes. Harry pressed his lips to hers, even though he noticed Hermione and Fleur broke their kiss, nearing their position with mischievousness in their steps.

A few seconds later, Harry felt a familiar set of breasts pressing his back, followed by a hand grabbing his hair and pulling his head harshly, enough to force a gasp out of his mouth, though the noise never reached the open air, snuffed by locking of Fleur's lips. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione treating Wanda in a similar manner. For a while, their position stood the same, then Wanda's hips started moving once more. Harry pulled out his kiss for a moment to watch Hermione and Wanda, Fleur's lips slipping down to his neck, her teeth leaving several angry red marks on his skin.

The entertainment provided by Wanda and Hermione was exquisite. Hermione's hands were firmly on Wanda's lips, her fingers sinking deep into her flesh, carefully leading Wanda's rhythm, meanwhile, their kiss unbroken. Wanda's hands were not idle, wandering over her own body with a special focus on her breasts, shivering every time her fingers circled the skin around her nipples. Never one to miss such opportunities, Harry's lips closed around her nipple, earning muffled cries with each pass.

He decided Hermione and Fleur weren't receiving enough attention, so he brought his hands to their nether lips, both slick with their arousal. Gathering a coat of magic around, he pushed two fingers each inside them, both sliding in without any resistance. Mirroring his action, he felt Fleur's hands cupping his balls, massaging them with gentle, familiar caresses, one of them occasionally climbing to caress his shaft.

The sustained attention proved too much for Wanda, triggering a second orgasm. But this time, neither Harry, nor Hermione was inclined to give her a reprieve. Harry's shaft continued to slip in and out as Hermione's hands directed her movements. Harry easily recognized the signs of a third climax, chasing the second, which was mirrored by his own build-up. Soon, he was filling her insides while her body rocked under the assault of yet another orgasm. "It was amazing," Wanda murmured, deep in a tired haze.

Harry stole another kiss from her lips, then turned to Hermione. "Why don't you help Wanda as she caught her breath, so that I can have a talk with her teacher about appropriate lesson materials."

"Sure," Hermione said as she leaned for a kiss of her own before carrying Wanda to a nearby bench.

"Now," Harry said, pulling Fleur on his lap, his lips curled into an edgy smile. His hand landed on her ass, the sound of a spank ringing in the opening. "Let's see your punishment for an improper student-teacher relationship."

* * *

 **Author notes: Hello, everyone. Yet another chapter is out. I'm happy to see enthusiasm you are showing, 1k in favorites while the story was still less than 20k long. As usual, any review is welcome, and a particular thanks to people who decided to support me on P/atreon.**

 **Also, I would happy to receive story arc ideas about Marvel in the reviews or in PMs. I cannot promise to include any of them, as they need to reasonably fit the future plans I have in mind, but I will give a fair shot.**

 **Sincerely,  
Selene**


	6. Chapter 6

There was a persistent smile on Harry's face as he carefully extracted himself from the pile of naked bodies on his bed. It had been an interesting night, especially after Wanda managed to overcome her initial shyness. She was still a bit clumsy, but her eagerness was more than enough to compensate for it. He wished he didn't have anything else to do, that he could spend rest of the night with them as well, but he already arranged first set of private training for Xavier's younglings.

A quick shower and a long distance apparition later, he was once again standing in front of the mansion's entrance. He waved the door open and floated inside, feeling too lazy to walk, not to mention there was a side benefit to it. It was a sure bet that Xavier was going to watch every video Harry was in, trying to get a better hold of his personality. Feeding him some false clues through acting like a smug teenager would help to muddy his reasoning, especially since Charles couldn't use his telepathic abilities to compensate. Not without declaring a war, at least.

As he floated towards the main building, his attention shifted towards the more immediate issues, such as the content and the structure of the lessons he was about to deliver to his new students. But before he could make any progress, Logan appeared at the entrance. "Hi, kiddo. How are you?" he said, smiling widely.

"Well enough, old man," Harry answered, his smile matching to Logan's. He was surprised to see how easy it was to strike a casual friendship with Logan, spiced with occasional banter. Maybe, it was because Logan reminded him of Hagrid, in some ways at least. Logan was quite a bit smaller and much more inclined to violence, not to mention his acerbic tongue. Nevertheless, they both had a certain clear perspective of life, unencumbered with the useless things most people cared about. Of course, there were areas their similarity was less than welcome. For example, Harry wouldn't even imagine sharing his secrets with Logan, just as he never did with Hagrid. Unless he wanted the others to know it, of course. They fell into a casual discussion as Logan escorted him to the danger room. "So, Mr. Laserbeam is my first student," Harry said after they arrived at the danger room, seeing Scott waiting for him.

"Yes, as the field leader of the younglings, Charles thought it best to start with him," Logan said, his tone making it clear that he didn't agree with Xavier on that particular aspect. Harry agreed. He knew Scott only for a few days, but it was plain to see that he was obsessed with Jean. And Harry was the one that took her away. Put them both in a room with no previously established student-teacher relationship, and there was a high chance that the situation would develop explosively. Of course, it wasn't hard to see why Charles would want such a thing. It would give Charles the excuse to make Logan or Ororo a part of his lessons to 'make sure' they could handle any explosive situation, meanwhile limiting the influence Harry could exert on the students significantly, all without needlessly antagonizing him. Harry had to give it to him, Xavier was living to the moniker of chess master.

However, Xavier had missed one important thing. Scott was far from the first snot-nosed teenager with an inflated sense of superiority he was forced to handle, and he knew exactly which buttons to push. "No worries, Logan," Harry said, then walked into the room. His guess wasn't far off-base. Scott, already in his full uniform including his distinctive visor, was standing in the middle of the room, his mouth twisted into a scowl, his hands balled into fists. A stance he thought as intimidating, but looked more like constipated instead. Harry walked towards him, quite aware that Scott was looking for the flimsiest excuse to attack him. He decided to preempt the situation. "Let's start with a spar," he said. "Attack me."

A momentary shock grabbed him with Harry's sudden invitation of assault, but it lasted only for a second. Harry nodded in approval as Scott raised his hand towards his visor, about to launch a line of concussive blast. The attack was better than he expected, Harry thought as he ducked under one laser, and jumped over the following one. Of course, his initial delay was too long, which gave Harry the opening to finish the fight before it began, but he opted not to take it. Such an action wouldn't support his aim. Instead, he spent a minute strictly in defensive, dodging Scott's every attack, careful not to use any magic. It was less of a challenge than he expected, mostly because Scott was telegraphing his every attack long before they left the visor.

Then, Scott stopped his attack momentarily, and Harry decided to take the opportunity to finish the fight. He dashed towards Scott, dodging the punch he threw -again, predictable-, then took a hold of his wrist. A twist later, he was holding Scott in a submission hold, his head pinned in a way he couldn't look at Harry. He struggled, trying to loosen himself enough to hit Harry with one of his blasts, but the leverage Harry had, it was a child's play to keep him immobile even discounting the permanent boost of strength he received. "Submit?" Harry said.

In a vain attempt, Scott struggled to get free for another minute, in which Harry continued to hold him with no words offered, knowing it would be much more effective for his aims if Scott internalizes the situation he was in. "I submit," he murmured, his tone still defiant.

Harry loosened his hold, stood up, and walked until there was a long divide between them, deliberately presenting his back to him. It was a credit to Scott that he didn't take a sneak potshot, of which Harry deliberately created an opening for. It was nice to see Scott wasn't as horrible as some of the stuck up rich kids Harry had the displeasure of interacting at Hogwarts, who wouldn't hesitate to take an underhanded assault in a spar. "Again," Harry said, this time, not losing any time before dashing towards Scott, who managed to send two blasts until Harry managed to reach to him, then get forced to stop when swept his feet off the ground with a low kick, followed by another submission hold, ending the second spar. The third one ended even quicker, with Harry pulling Scott's visor in one pull after he entered melee range, leaving him effectively blind.

"So, what do you think I'm trying to teach you," Harry said in a conversational tone after several spars, all ended in Scott kissing the ground, though no two approach was the same.

"I need to work on my close combat," Scott answered, his teeth clenched in annoyance. "My technique is insufficient to fight against submission holds, my reflexes are not responsive enough, and I'm having trouble forcing distance if the attacker is nimble enough."

Harry upgraded his opinion about Scott a notch. He didn't think he would be able to keep his calm after several losses against someone he saw as a rival. But not only he did that, he also managed to identify his problem areas and communicated them despite the impact it had on his pride. "Good," Harry said. "But you missed one important factor. Your visor is a very dangerous leverage. One you cannot afford to lose in any condition."

"That's my curse," Scott spat in anger.

Harry nodded in understanding, and a little pity. He didn't want to imagine his own magic coming with such a drawback. Being forced to use a wand had been bad enough when he was young, but his magic flailing without control without his wand… It was a nightmare too hard to contemplate. "Maybe, maybe not. But in any case, there are two things we can do to make it less of a liability."

"Really?" Scott asked, hope blossoming in his face, making him glad that he was already planning to help him with his full might. Politics was one thing, but he wasn't about to mess with the health and progress of a teenager just because he had some issues with his teacher. It was too close to what Dumbledore tried to do with him, and he could never stomach such an action.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "First, we need to design you a new visor, one that doesn't fall down with a stiff breeze. Maybe a half-helmet or something." Scott nodded, astonished that he hadn't thought it before. "And second, we need to train you to fight without relying on your sight." Also, there were the third and fourth options, but Harry was reluctant to speak of them before making sure they were possible, not wanting to give false hope.

"How can I fight without seeing?" Scott asked, puzzlement, and a little derision, shaping his expression.

Harry closed his eyes. "Come at me with melee," he said, focusing on Scott's footsteps as he carefully walked closer, rightfully assuming it might not be as easy as it looked. He was right. Harry had trained to fight in darkness just in case, and while his skill suffered quite a bit without his eyesight, he wasn't exactly helpless, at least against a novice like Scott. He waited until Scott was quite near, then lunged towards him, pulling his arms to protect his face. He received a couple of fists to the stomach with quite a bit of force behind them. Unluckily for Scott, he was slow to pull back, leaving him in the grappling range. Even without his sight, it was trivial to pin Scott to the ground once more.

"I submit," Scott repeated, this time, his tone quite thoughtful. "Can you teach me how to fight like that?" he asked after they stood up.

"I can, at least on the beginner stuff. Anything more, we might have to bring a specialized trainer. Neither mine nor Logan's style is a good fit for you, we are too different, both physically and in doctrine." Scott nodded once more. "Good," Harry added. "Let's move on to the next step, ranged combat…"

From that point on, the training went much better, the promise of getting more efficient It was almost midnight when Harry left the mansion, and he was quite exhausted after having the sessions several male students back to back, thankfully none of the others had Scott's attitude problem. They weren't exactly friendly of course, but still a huge distance from actual hostility.

He wasn't physically tired, as his powers boosted him quite a bit when it came to physical limits, but mentally, he was spent. So, he teleported to his new mansion, wanting to catch some sleep, only to find a familiar owl flapping her wings over his bed. He reached for the letter, curious why Astoria sent an owl to him instead of calling his mobile like she usually did.

The letter managed to grab his attention even with the first few sentences. Apparently, one of Astoria's business partners talked her about a private business club for distinguished business people, inviting her to join. Astoria had joined, used to doing business that way thanks to Magical side. However, she noticed a brief mental scan during the recruitment meeting, one that was quite different from a legimency probe. Even though she had managed to defend herself with a false mind technique, she was reluctant to join their first meeting, not without someone to escort her at least. And who would be better than him as the principal investor of his business. She had warned him to be careful what to say on the phone, as she wasn't sure whether they had tapped into her communications. Harry agreed with her conclusion, if they were using mental assault as a screening tool, it was almost a certainty that they were using electronic tracing methods as well.

It hadn't been hard to draw the similarities between the power Astoria described and Xavier's telepathic abilities. Most likely mutants, Harry reasoned as he quickly scribbled a note of acceptance, saying her to call him and ask it through the phone as well. If they were tapping their phones, it would be better to create a communication trail. To do otherwise would be too suspicious. Then, he threw himself on his bed, catching his much-needed sleep.

* * *

Harry was confused when he woke up. He had experienced a weird lucid dream, one that filled his heart with urgency, but it slid from his consciousness like fine sand despite his best effort to keep it in his grasp. Even his mental abilities failed to retain more than disjointed scraps. He remembered brimstones, red, anger, and love… A confusing mess, one he was unable to put into order, or even see how they were linked. The only thing he knew was it wasn't a random dream. It was important, important enough to change his life.

Regardless, he stood up, and after a brief shower, he was ready to go out once more. He wanted to train once more, but the location to train was a problem. He managed to almost create a national crisis the last time he tried, and though Hermione managed to cover it up, he didn't think it would work a second time. And it was the most remote location he could find, far away from any land, distant from shipping lines, quite unimportant in general. It was impossible for him to find a more remote location on Earth to train…

Then something clicked in his mind. Yes, it was the most remote location he could have found on Earth, but he didn't have to stay restricted to Earth, was he? It was a half-baked idea with a chance of killing him, one he needed to do years of research before attempting it. But he wasn't a member of Gryffindor for nothing, so he waved his hand, disappeared from the room.

A second later, he was floating, surrounded by darkness, a blue orb far away under his feet. A spell that would allow himself to breathe was ready in his fingers, but he arrested the flow of the magic once he realized something interesting. He felt no need to breathe in the vacuum, his body working with no adverse reaction. Neither the lack of pressure, nor the deadly cold affected him the slightest. "Interesting," he murmured, though the sound failed to reach his ears, owing it to the lack of air.

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of shooting several high powered spells, giving an unexpected show of fireworks to the inhabitants of the Earth, but this time, his sensibilities managed to overcome his instincts. Sending several governments into a panicked frenzy wasn't something on his to-do list for the day. Instead, he teleported once more, this time, stretching his ability much harder than the previous one, until he found himself floating above the most famous storm of the Solar System, with one of the most ironic names. The little red spot of Jupiter, with a wind speed of almost four hundred miles per hour, lightning storms that made Earth's look like sparkles in comparison, and a pressure enough crack the strongest man-made structure. In other words, the perfect place to test the real limits of his abilities, both offensive and defensive. "Geronimo," he whispered as he canceled the power that allowed him to float, his body falling towards the deadly planet with the sudden absence of any power to counteract against the gravity of the gas giant…

It was almost two days later when Harry blinked into existence in his room once more. He was exhausted, his clothing was in tatters, but neither was able to remove the huge smile on his lips, driven by his failure to find the limits of his power. He was happy with his failure, because no matter how hard he pushed himself, he utterly failed to even discover a limit to his new power. He tried everything he could, firestorms larger than London, lightning bolts thicker than aircraft carriers, with enough energy to meet Earth's consumption for days, explosions with higher magnitudes than largest nuclear bombs… None of them managed to put a noticeable drain on his power. Even the mental strain from channeling an immense amount of power was not a real barrier, getting easier with each limit he pushed through. At the end of the second day, it was trivial to summon mountain-sized balls of magma or other feats that bordered on the godlike level. A benefit of being linked to the cosmic force of creation and renewal, he supposed.

Of course, it also scared him a little. With his polarized luck, it wouldn't be too long before an enemy appeared that forced him to use his newfound power, a fact less than comforting. He slid back to his bed, shrugged, deciding not to worry too much. There wasn't much he could do other than training and keeping his eyes open.

* * *

He was once again beset with a mess of feeling, coming from a forgotten dream. Pain, fires, love, longing… He tried to remember the source of his feelings, only to fail once more, even with the help of his mental talents. That, more than anything was enough to convince him that it was no ordinary occurrence. He took a note to spend some time, searching for its source, but for now, he had more urgent things to do, if the owl flying in front of his face with a letter tied to its leg was any indicator.

A quick browsing showed that Astoria's meeting with the Hellfire club had been shifted forward, and was about to happen in a couple of hours instead of the next week. Apparently, two bigshots of the club were coming from the New York branch for another meeting, and they wanted to meet with her before she joined. A suspicious development, Harry surmised, which explained the panicked tone of the letter. Astoria wasn't a slouch when it comes to recognizing a setup or an ambush. He changed into a casual business attire, slacks, navy blue blazer and white shirt combo, combined with brown leather belt and shoes. After a brief consideration, he put an expensive watch on his wrist. Acting like a rich, spoiled heir would help them to underestimate him.

He directly teleported to Astoria's living room, the owner of the room walking back and forth anxiously in the room. Astoria noticed his presence before he could say anything, and jumped towards him. "Harry," she said with a naked enthusiasm. "I'm so glad you are able to make it. I have a bad feeling about it."

Harry nodded. Ignoring one's instincts was seldom a good idea, especially if the one had a minor talent towards divination like Astoria. "Of course," he said. "A place that's named Hellfire club isn't the sort of place I'm willing to send you without any support."

"Thanks, you're the best," Astoria said, stealing a peck off his lips.

"Do you have any idea what made them suspicious?" Harry added. "Maybe they were able to notice your false mind?"

"No. At least I don't think so. It was different than a typical legimency assault, so I can't be completely certain, but the probe hadn't focused on any area that might reveal the fake memories."

"Maybe they were able to notice some discrepancies in detail?"

"Possible. But if I were to bet, I would bet on background check discovering most of the things on my background is a ruse," Astoria said.

"And they either have contacts on the magical side and discovered your real identity, or assumed you are a spy. Either way, it's quite likely that one of these heavy hitters will be a telepath. That, or someone else that has a weird ability to see the truth or something." Upon receiving a questioning look from Astoria, he launched a brief explanation on specialized talents appearing in otherwise mundane people, dubbed as mutations, much to Astoria's astonishment.

"Are they really that strong," Astoria asked, worry clear in her tone.

"They are, though their restricted specialization makes them quite limited when it comes to defending against the magic. Most of them have easily exploitable weaknesses even against mundane tactics. Anyway, we need to go if we don't want to be late. Is the car ready?"

"Yeah, the driver is on the street, waiting for us."

They walked downstairs. Harry whistled when he saw the limo waiting for them. "Nice choice," said.

"Thanks," Astoria answered with a crooked smile on her face. "I thought, just because we are going to a potentially deadly event doesn't mean we couldn't have fun on the way."

A smile spread across Harry's face as he leaned to catch Astoria's lips. It was nice to see his unusual approach to life was being applied by anyone around him. He opened the door, paying a special attention to the way her back arched, accentuating her bottom, clad tight by her little black dress, enjoying the sight of his appetizer.

She was already raising the barrier between the driver and the passengers as he stepped inside the limo. Before he could say anything, she leaned towards him and caught his lips, pushing her tongue aggressively. Harry let her establish the dominant position. With their bodies pressed together, her stress was even more pronounced, and Harry wanted to give her space to deal with it the way she wished before the dinner.

Still, that didn't prevent Harry from feeling enthusiastic when Astoria climbed on his lap without stopping their kiss even for a moment. He let his fingers trace upwards her leg, arriving at the edge of her panties in short order, her short dress providing no barrier since they already rode upwards thanks to Astoria's latest position. "I see your fingers are curious again," Astoria said when they broke for a breath, though she did nothing to pull them away.

Harry dragged his finger over her slit, feeling the texture of the damp fabric. "You can't expect an explorer to sit around when there are wonders to discover," he said as he traced the edges of her panties.

"Maybe I'm not," Astoria said, lowering her hand until she found his belt, opening it with a smooth, familiar manner. "Or maybe, I'm waiting for a different explorer to visit my wonder." His boxers turned ineffective under the same smooth assault, freeing his shaft free. Her fingers wrapped around his girth a moment later, extracting a happy moan from his lips soon after.

"But what if the explorer insists," Harry answered, sliding his fingers in the confines of her panties. Astoria opened her mouth to answer, but Harry had no intention of letting her speak. He laced his fingers with a generous layer of magic. A loud cry was ripped off her, but Harry didn't let her have any time to adapt, and started pushing his fingers inside her rhythmically. He was tempted to kiss her once more, but he also wanted to continue listening the symphony Astoria was creating. In the end, he decided to compromise. He grabbed the top of her dress and pulled down, revealing her perky breasts, unencumbered with any kind of bra, allowing Harry to dip his head to taste her pink wonders.

Several minutes, and two orgasms, later, Astoria managed to gather her wits enough to be able to control her hands once more. "That was nice," she murmured even as she stood up a bit, hovering above Harry's erection. She hooked her fingers to the edge of her panties, and lowered herself towards his shaft. But before Harry could push himself inside her, the limo came to a stop. "Ups, I think we are already at the restaurant," Astoria said, but doing no move to pull back, the expression on her face tempting him to skip the meeting they were about to attend…


End file.
